The Plunge
by Ready Freddy
Summary: During a job, Parker takes a tumble into Boston Harbor...in January. There's a little bit of everybody, but mainly Parker/Hardison.
1. Crack!

first fiction, i own nothing. this is taking place sometime after sophie's return. i just started watching the show a few months ago, so i'm catching up, but i still haven't seen all episodes. plus, i'm kind of seeing it out of order. so, if there are chronological errors or anything, my apologies, but just roll with it. (the same goes for grammatical errors.) Enjoy!

* * *

"Hurry up, Parker," Eliot growls as Sophie passes by with the mark. The shipping company's owner was taking her to his office on the pier to show her which ship would be carrying her 'property.' Meanwhile, Parker is planting some stolen antiquities in the patsy's safe and photographing his shipping routes and manifests.

"This safe is all rusted! What kind of man would neglect a gem like this?" She grumbles, trying to decipher between the creaks of the old dial and the tumblers within it.

"She needs more time, Sophie," says Eliot, tugging the dirty stocking hat further down on his head. Being a hitter is hard work, but the life of a dock worker is no picnic either. He blows into his cupped hands to warm them as their grifter pretends to get her stiletto heel stuck between the weather worn beams of the dock.

"Almost there," Parker mutters.

"So are we," Sophie says under her breath.

"Parker, get out of there!" Nate's voice sounds sternly in their ears.

This was supposed to be a simple job. When Benny Trevino contacted them a week ago, they all thought it would be a piece of cake. The owner of a shipping company, David Thompson, has been doing some shady business, mainly trading antiquities through Macedonia. When the client started poking around after noticing a few discrepancies in the ship's manifests, an extra crate or container here and there, the mark fired him and got him thrown out of the local union.  
Now Benny is left with no job and no pension and a daughter just starting her second semester of Columbia.

"So, we're just framing him then?" asks Parker sounding a little disappointed.

"Well, yes," explains Nate trying to hold on to his patience. "But, it s not quite that simple."

"All we're doing is framing him for crimes that he actually did commit."

"What s wrong with that?" Hardison wonders incredulously. The blonde just shrugs sullenly and slouches into the couch, clearly bored by this case.

"He's been importing stolen artifacts, but we are going to frame him for exporting. His security is less on outgoing shipments," the mastermind explains.

"We also have to scare him into making a run for it," Sophie supplies hoping to interest Parker.

"Into international waters," adds Eliot. "This guy has a lot of friends in high places. If Boston P.D. or the FBI get a hold of him, he'll call in a few favors and be in the wind in twenty minutes." Nate ignores the thief s grumblings (ex: no motion detectors, no retinal scanners, there isn t even a cool name for this con.) and lays out the plan.

Eliot will disguise himself as a dock worker to gather information, while Sophie goes in as a mysterious French woman who needed some items shipped back to France with no questions asked. Nate will be putting the legal pressure on Thompson, just enough to make him gather his money and plan an extended vacation.

Parker is responsible for acquiring some stolen artifacts and planting them in his safe, plus getting all the shipping routes so they knew where to direct the authorities when they tip them off. And, Hardison will do what he always does, best not get into the specifics.

That was the plan and it was going surprisingly well. By the time Sophie and Thompson reached his office, which was little more than a few rooms in a rickety building at the end of the pier, there was no sign of Parker. Nate was poised to barge in sounding official to make the mark nervous and after he left, Sophie would finish job, filling his head with the worst case scenario. It was just after Nate walked in that it happened.

The group had stopped questioning Parker's impressive disappearing acts. They are still a little jumpy with her impressive reappearing acts, but they were getting used to those too. Nobody suspected that she might be in trouble, not even her, when she slipped out the window, just as Sophie and the mark were opening the door.

Eliot thought he would see her strolling down the pier any second, getting the same looks that Sophie got a few minutes ago and being completely unaware of it. Hardison was looking forward to her hopping into the van to wait out the rest of the mission with him.

As Nate flashed fake Interpol credentials, the team, via their ear pieces, heard a crack.

"What was that?" Hardison and Eliot asked in unison. Nate and Sophie merely thought it as they ran with the grift. If Parker could have answered them, she would have explained that it was the sound of wood that has been assaulted by the elements for sixty years giving way under the weight of a small blonde thief. She couldn't tell them that because she was too busy falling.

This is formatting really weird, so again, my apologies!


	2. One long second

disclaimer: i am not a medical professional. most of the hypothermia stuff is true, but some needed to be bent for the story. again, just go with it.

'It always feels longer,' she thinks to herself. Parker knows that her freefall rate is approximately thirty-two feet per second and this pier is thirty-five feet from the waterline. Just over one second.

She crosses her arms and legs to prepare for impact, braces herself against the cold and waits. It isn't the first time something like this has happened, knots have slipped, a wire stopper broke once, but it is the first time it happened with the team. Usually in a situation like this her mind would be racing with her next step. This time is different. She thinks about her team, and hopes desperately that her slip up won't spoil the con.

The last thing she hears is Hardison's voice calling her name, then- splash!

The cold shocks her, stealing the air from her lungs as she fights to reach the surface. Her body is pushed against one of the barnacle covered pillars of the dock as she tries to catch her breath. She knows that she needs to swim now, her limbs are already starting to go numb.

While Nate and Sophie try to hold their poker faces, Eliot and Hardison are losing their minds. The hacker is out of the van and running across the parking lot toward waterfront. Eliot is sprinting to the edge of the pier searching for any sign of their teammate.

"Eliot, can you see her?" Hardison demands.

"Not yet, hold on!" he barks, looking over the side. "I see her! She's swimming." The whole team relaxes a fraction, but Hardison doesn't slow his pace. "I'll be damned," Eliot mutters, his eyes still glued to Parker's head bobbing through the water. She might look like Klepto-Barbie, but she's tough. 'Thank god for that,' he thinks, taking off at a run again.

Hardison almost collides with two power walkers and a jogger as he cuts across the walkway. He hurdles a low fence, finally seeing Parker when he lands in the patchy grass at the water's edge. She's still trying to swim but seems to be having considerable trouble with the last ten feet. Her teammate quickly traverses the border of large rocks and is waist deep in the bitterly cold water in seconds. In another moment, he reaches her and starts hauling her back toward the rocks.

"I got you. Relax, baby, I got you," he says as she flails clumsily trying to free herself. "Eliot, get the van," Hardison commands through clenched teeth. Parker clings to him stumbling over the uneven stones. When her legs buckle, he scoops her up and that will be the last she remembers of this ordeal.

The van screeches to a halt at the curb, and in ten seconds it's squealing away again.

"Get the wet clothes off her," Eliot orders from the driver seat. He ignores the sarcastic "Good idea," from Hardison and punches the gas even harder. "Check her breathing."

"It's, uh, slow, but steady," he says distractedly. His hands are sluggish and his own clothes are soaked too, making removing hers difficult and frustrating. "She needs a hospital, man. She doesn't look good."

"We'll be there in one minute!"

Following Eliot's instructions, Hardison handles her carefully. He places handwarmers on her chest, neck and abdomen then wraps a thick blanket around her.

"Don't rub her skin! If she's frostbit it'll hurt her."

"What else do I do?" His emotions are getting dangerously close to the surface. Seeing someone you love in a state like this and being completely useless is devastating. If his mind and body weren't so overloaded, Hardison might be shaken by the notion that he loves Parker. Under the circumstances, mental triage pushes that issue off to the sidelines for now.

"It s ok, we're here." Eliot slams on the brakes and hops out. By the time he rounds the van, Hardison is already toting the bundle of Parker toward the door to the emergency room. "We need help here!" he shouts, running ahead. "It's my sister and her boyfriend. She fell into the harbor!" The nurse races around the desk, shouting instructions to her subordinates. A gurney meets Hardison just inside the doors and he lays Parker down. She looks so terribly still amongst the flurry of activity.

"Sir, what is her name?" the nurse asks as they take off down the hall.

"Par-" Hardison starts to say, but Eliot cuts him off.

"Alice. Alice White," While his mind is a bit clearer than his teammate's, that is the only alias that he can remember. The hacker gives him a grateful look when Eliot takes over the rapid Q and A.

"How long was she in the water?"

"Five minutes."

"And, how long ago was that?"

"Fifteen, tops."

"Any allergies?"

"None that I know of."

"Did she hit her head?"

"No, but she passed out right after we got her out of the water."

"Ok, guys, I need you to step back and give us some room." Hardison tries to protest, but Eliot puts his arm out to hold him back. "Someone will be out to update you soon," she adds disappearing behind the swinging doors after Parker.

"I don't want her to wake up alone," Hardison says quietly, still gazing at the closed doors. When the shorter man turns to him, it starts as sympathy but switches quickly to suspicious concern.

"Dude, you're shaking."

"I'm fine," he assures unconvincingly. "Jus' tired." Eliot watches him closely as he ambles over to a chair along the wall. He trips over his own feet, but catches himself before sliding into the sitting position.

"Nurse!"

"Eliot, where are you guys?" Nate's voice chimes in.

"Mass General on Fruit Street," He mutters as a nurse walks over. "Excuse me, I think my friend over there might have a slight case of hypothermia. Can we get him some dry clothes and a blanket?"

"Absolutely," she replies seeming alarmed by his casual tone. "Sir, I need you to come with me. We're going to get you out of these wet things and have somebody take a look at you." Hardison looks a little dazed but follows with out objection.

"How's Parker?" Judging by his voice, he's moving pretty quickly. "Taxi!"

"She's was out of it when we came in and now they won't let us see her. I honestly don t know."

"Ok, I'll be there in-"

"No, wait. We need id's. Alice White for Parker and another for Hardison."

"Got it."  
-

"We've stabilized her and her temp is almost back to normal," the doctor is explaining.

"Oh, thank god," mumbles Sophie. The doctor takes a deep breath before continuing, never a good sign. He can't help but notice the variety in Alice White's family. Her very worried looking boyfriend is dressed in scrubs, while her brother looks (and smells) like a fisherman. And, her aunt, an expensively dressed British woman, seems an odd match for her uncle, who is pacing uncomfortably in his cheap suit.

"She's not completely responsive."

"What does that mean?" Hardison inquires quickly.

"Sir, she's had quite a shock, and so have you. She's been drifting in and out of consciousness, but she hasn't been fully coherent. I've given her a mild sedative to ease any strain on her heart; that will wear off in about three hours. I have every hope that she will recover fully within the next twelve hours, but there is a slight possibility that she could remain comatose for an indeterminate amount of time."

His words hung in the air like a dense fog. Every member of the team wanted to either punch something or drink something, possibly both.

"May we see her?" Sophie's refined voice cuts through their racing thoughts.

"Yes, but only two at a time, please."

"We understand," She says kindly, rising from the uncomfortable waiting room chair. She nods at Nate, who appreciatively heads for the exit. "Mark and I will see her first," she motions for Hardison. "I'll just be a minute, then you can go on in," she says over her shoulder to Eliot. When they reach the room, Sophie rushes to Parker's side. She grasps the girl's hand and murmurs soothing words like a pro.

"She looks pale," mutters Hardison, frozen at the foot of the bed.

"It's this lighting, love. It's not kind to any of us."

"But, she's so..." he says, unable to take his eyes of her seemingly lifeless form.

"Still? I know. I half expected her to be perched on the windowsill with a bowl of cereal." She smiles wistfully until she sees the look on his face. "Alec," hearing his rarely used first name, he lifts his gaze to Sophie, "Parker's strong. She's not the type to go quietly into the night. She'll wake up. Soon. I know it." He nods in agreement and pulls up a chair on the other side of the bed.

"Did we blow the con?" he asks changing the subject.

"No. Thompson thinks Nate's crazy, but that actually made it easier to spook him." Turning to look out the window, she pushes the heavy material aside. "It's a nice view. You should open the curtains in the morning."

"Me?"

"Yes. We're going to finish this and you're going to stay with her." She leaves no room for question. "I know how it feels," Sophie adds cryptically. Without another word, she squeezes Parker's hand, kisses Hardison's cheek and retreats, her heels clicking down the hallway. In Sophie's absence he inches the chair closer and takes the pale hand in his much darker one.

He stiffens up when Eliot walks in, but he doesn't release her hand.

"Sophie thinks I should-"

"I know. Like you said, she shouldn't wake up alone." Eliot rambles around with his hands shoved in his pockets. "You did real good today," he say begrudgingly. Sincerity never came easily between these two.

"You wouldn't have done the same?"

"Of course, I would have. No question," he says sounding insulted. "I'm a retrieval specialist. That's what I do, but I've never seen a computer geek run at a full sprint into freezing water before. Didn t even break stride..."

"It's Parker. I had to."

"I know." Eliot couldn't argue with that. If he had been closer, he would have done the exact same thing. It's not that he didn't think Hardison would have gone to the aid of any member of the team, because he would have. Eliot just doubted that he would have done so without at least a second of hesitation. One moment to think of his own safety or comfort. One moment to look for another option. One moment to gather his courage.

Not when it was Parker; for her there was no hesitation whatsoever.

"We'll be fine," Eliot states. "A fake drop off, a bag switch and a tip off call. Then we can all go home."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Just worry about her."

Hardison didn't think it was physically possible to worry anymore about one person at one moment than he did right now. Instead of telling Eliot that, he just said, "I will," and turned back toward Parker.

"You should talk to her," Eliot says from the doorway. "She's used to hearing your voice in her ear. Might be comforting, or something." Hardison nods in agreement and then they are alone again. He takes out his ear piece and inhales deeply.

"I know you're in there, Parker... God, I wish I knew if that was your first or last name. Or, any part of your real name..." How do you love someone without knowing their real name? "Elliot told them your name is Alice White, in case you were wondering. And, if anybody asks, I'm Mark Meral... your boyfriend." Parker doesn t seem to mind the situation so he continues inventing their completely unnecessary cover story.

"Now, this Mark dude, he sounds like he works in tech support at U-Mass, right? Yeah, he's been there way too long, really starting to hate the students. Spilling energy drinks on keyboards and what not," He rambles on. "As for Alice, she's been working as a bank teller, but she secretly wants to be an artist. She started taking a painting class at the U, that's how they met. Been together almost two years now."

He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, even though no one can hear him, probably not even Parker. "Don't tell Alice this but, Mark bought her a ring. Actually two rings, he just can't decide which one to give her. He's been carrying around both the damn things for three weeks."

After three hours, she still hasn't stirred. After four hours, Hardison puts his comm. back into his ear to check on the team. Mission accomplished without any notable hitches. With her condition unchanged, the team sits tight. Hardison will contact them with any new developments. Removing his ear piece once again he resituates himself, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bed.

"Parker, I need you to wake up," he says a little after midnight. "There's something I have to tell you. It's important and I need for you to really hear me." Hardison sighs heavily and drops his head down onto his arms. It doesn't look comfortable, his upper body hunched on the edge of the bed, his right hand still gently grasping hers. His exhausted mind and body don't seem to care. He is asleep in a matter of minutes.


	3. Who needs a sponsor?

Just a small piece of the puzzle, more to come soon.

* * *

"Sophie, I'm fine. I'm not going to drink myself to death!"

"I know," she retorts, "because I'm going to sit here and guilt you until you go to bed." Nate starts to protest but she cuts him off, "I saw your face back there. I know what you were thinking."

"Oh, really? Then please, elaborate. What was my face telling you?"

"You were thinking, 'My god! We just got the band back together and now we're going to be down one again.' And, don't worry, I'm not offended. I know full well that Parker would be a hell of a lot harder to replace than I was," Sophie continues despite Nate's head shaking.

"I didn't replace you! You called Tara, not me."

"And, I hate to kick you when you're down-"

"Could have fooled me."

"-but if that girl doesn't wake up-"

"Sophie..."

"-you'll be down two, not one." She takes the glass out of his hand to make sure she has his full attention. "And, as much as you tried to hide it, underneath all that trivial muck, Parker is like a daughter to you. Seeing her in a hospital-"

"Enough!" Nate interrupts. "Yes, alright? I'm worried about Parker! It's eating me up. Of course, I want to drink! I mean, what if she..." he can't even say it. "I want to drink a lot."

"There. Don't you feel better?" She receives only a scathing look in response. "Want to watch a movie?"

"Two?"

"As many as you like, darling." Sophie, feeling satisfied, moves to the couch and switches on the TV.

"No, before- you said we'd be down two, not one." She nods, still flipping through the channels. "So, Parker and..." Nate prompts, easing onto the couch beside her.

"Hardison."

"What?" He asks in high pitched shock.

"Didn't you see him today? Poor boy's in love," she says landing on an old black and white movie. "He won't budge until she wakes up."

"What?" This time his voice takes on a darker tone.

"Aw, you're protective. That's so cute," she gushes.

"What?"

"She'll be alright, Papa Bear." She pats his arm as he sulks. "Parker's stronger than all of us." She stares at the screen for a few moments to recover her composure. "So, popcorn?"


	4. Awake

Parker is awake. You wouldn't know by looking at her. She still looks calm and serene, but her mind is alert. Her eyes were only open for a second when she heard someone opening the door.

Parker saw that it is a dark hospital room. In alarm, she realized that she is in the bed. 'Why am I here? Is this a con? Am I supposed to be stealing something right now? Did I fall asleep on the job? Is that Hardison? Why is he wearing scrubs?' Her thoughts race as she lies perfectly still. 'I hope that's a nurse,' Parker thinks as the person stands next to her bed.

As it turns out, it is a nurse. She checks the levels on the IV, makes some notes in the file and closes the door quietly behind her. When Parker opens her eyes to get a better look at her surroundings it starts to come back to her.

The crack of rotting wood, a rush of air, then the cold. She remembers swimming, fighting toward the rocks and that awful feeling when her body stopped doing what she wanted it to. Being so close, but no matter how hard she thrashed not getting any closer. Then Hardison was there saying, 'I got you.'

She felt the gravity of being on dry land, but she could not feel the ground beneath her feet because she could not feel her feet. Or, her legs...Then that weight was gone too. Then-nothing. If Hardison and the team hadn't been there she would have died.  
The thought shakes her more than falling into Boston Harbor in January. Without this team, she would be an ice cube right now. Parker couldn't remember the last time she really needed anyone; that she allowed herself to need anyone.

She also could not think of another time when she hadn't woken up alone. It was kind of nice to open your eyes and see someone there holding your hand.

"Excuse me," Parker says quietly, tapping the top of Hardison's head with her free hand. He awakens slowly seeming very disoriented."Hi!" she squeaks as a disbelieving smile spreads across his face. "Can we get out of here, please?"

"Parker! They gotta check you out first! Listen to your heartbeat, shine a light in your eyes; you know, make sure you're ok." He can't believe that leaving the hospital is her first priority. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah. Crack, splash, cold, you," she summarizes.

"I'm calling for the nurse." He stands to look for the call button, finding it attached to the rail on the opposite side of the bed. As he leans over, Parker grabs him and kisses him. Hardison has to brace his arms on the bed to keep from falling on top of her.

"What was that for?" He asks with a goofy grin.

"Isn't that how you thank someone for saving your life?" she responds innocently. "I could give you money, if that would be a better way to express my gratitude."

"No,no! This is fine. I like this form of expression," he assures her, then presses the little red button before taking his seat.

"Good, I don't like giving away my money," she says as the nurse walks in.

"Welcome back!" she says brightly which confuses Parker. "How do you feel?"

"Umm...heavy."

"That's normal. Your body has been through a lot, so you're going to be a bit stiff and achey for a few days. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Parker says only realizing it now.

"Good. I'll have some food sent up in a minute, but i have to examine you first." Parker pouts, but the nurse pretends not to notice. "Now would be a good time to fill the rest of the family in," she adds to Hardison. "Cell phone use is only allowed in the waiting area." He thanks the nurse then pointedly tells 'Alice' that he'll be back soon.

"Your boyfriend's sweet," the nurse comments while checking the patients blood pressure. Parker almost corrects her, but figures the relationship status might be part of Alice's cover story. "Hasn't left your side once."

"How long was I out?"

"Uh, let's see," she glances at the clipboard. "It was 15:30 when your brother and your boyfriend brought you in and it's just after 4:00 now so...almost eleven hours."

"My brother?"

"Yeah, he didn't look too good when the doctor updated them on your condition. Thought he might take a swing at somebody."

"That sounds like him. He's always grumpy, but he's fluffy underneath. Sophie thinks just he needs a girlfriend."

"Sophie? Is that your aunt?" She's moved on to the shining light in eyes portion.

"Uh...yes. Was she here too?"

"Mmm hmm, along with your uncle." The nurse doesn't notice Parker's surprise at her 'uncle's' presence as she scribbles more notes in the chart. "He looked pretty bad, too. Wouldn't stop pacing the whole time."

"He hates hospitals."

"I don't blame him," she says amiably. "Can you wiggle your toes for me?" She asks, starting a series of mobility tests, followed by a few more questions to gauge her mental awareness. "Ok, that's all for now. I'll send in some food, then try to get some more sleep. The doctor will check on you at about 8:00, and if all goes well, we should have you out of here by lunchtime."

Lunchtime doesn't seem like soon enough for Parker, which she tells Hardison when he returns.

"Woman, you could have died today!"

"But, I didn't."

"I heard the phrase 'comatose for an indeterminate amount of time' and he was talking about you! Do you know what that does to a man?"

"No," she says in total honesty.

"Well, it's not good," he stammers, having trouble defining his feelings at the moment. "So, we're not taking any chances."

"Fine," she grumbles. Her scowl doesn't hold long, it soon dissolves into soft chuckles.

"What's so funny?"

"I just remembered the dream I was having." Parker sits up, crossing her legs under the blanket."It was really weird. I was a prison guard, but it was this tiny prison and all the inmates were money. All I did, was count them all day."

"Really?" Hardison muses that a money prison sounds a bit like a band and a bank teller would be like a prison guard. Weird.

"But, I was sad because I could never take the money home with me so then I became a painter."

'This can't be a coincidence, right?' he thinks to himself.

"All my paintings were of big red bulls playing pianos. Their outfits all matched which kind of piano they were playing."

"Huh?"

"Well, the one on the baby grand was wearing a tuxedo with tails. Then, there was another one playing a key-tar and he was dressed really 80's. My favorite was the one on the stand-up piano. He was dressed all old school with a bowler hat and smoking a cigar."

It is Hardison's turn to laugh, now picturing her 'dream paintings.'

"Then, all my paintings came to life. It was crazy because when the bulls started to play they accidentally smashed the keys with their hooves." Just then, a different nurse with a tray walks in.

"Eat up, it'll do you a lot of good." She sets the tray on a narrow table and wheels it over the bed. "You, too," she nods to Hardison. Parker makes a face at the bland meal: water, oatmeal, toast and crackers, two servings of everything. The only thing that isn't a sallow tan are the two cups of hot chocolate. She starts to poke at it despite it's unappealing appearance.

"So, what else happened in your dream?" Hardison asks, taking only the hot chocolate.

"You showed up, you were the piano repair guy. You got mad because the bulls would wreck the keyboards again as soon as you went to fix the next one."

'There is no way that's a coincidence.' Parker goes on to describe a comically warped version of what Hardison had been talking to her about.

* * *

"...Elliot was pouting because we kept interrupting his one-man civil war reenactment."

"One-man civil war reenactment?" Nate repeats, walking through the doorway.

"Sounds like somebody went down the rabbit hole," Sophie says close behind. "How fitting, Alice." Parker doesn't get the reference, but accepts a hug from her friend.

Eliot arrives soon after with an immovable smile on his face. Although the thief annoys him a majority of the time, he's grown quite attached to her. She's become like a sister to him. 'Well, not exactly a sister,' he corrects himself, remembering that he can't help checking her out every once in a while. 'She's like a stepsister. Not a blood relative, but it would still be really wrong.'

He slaps Hardison on the back a little harder than necesary and gives Parker a quick hug before ruffling her hair. The team only has a few minutes together before the nurse returns. She apologizes, but all except Hardison must go. She informs them that visiting hours start at ten'o'clock tomorrow, then leaves them to their goodbyes.

Sophie, who has held it together the best so far, almost starts to cry when she tells Parker again how glad she is that she's ok. She vows to be back at ten sharp. Eliot says that he won't be back, but to come to Nate's apartment as soon as she's discharged. He's going to cook a special lunch for everyone.

"Don't scare me like that again," mumbles Nate who has been shuffling near the foot of the bed since he arrived. He shakes Hardison's hand before giving him a duffle bag containing basic toilettries and a change of clothes for each of them.

"This is so weird," Parker states after they've all gone.

"What is?"

"I've never had anyone...care about me this much."

It's sad, but Hardison knows it's true. Before he can dwell on that thought, the original nurse returns. She moves the table off to the side then looks at 'Mark' who is settling back into his uncomfortable chair.

"I only let you stay because you are technically a patient too." Technically he shouldn't be, but the nurses had taken pity on the young couple. She falsified his chart so they would admit him overnight. Nothing big, just said that he was throwing up for the first two hours. "You're not going to make me regret it, right?"

"No, ma'am."

"What are the chances that you'll go to your own room on the third floor?"

"Not likely," he replies cautiously.

"I figured." She picks up the tray and heads for the door. "Move that chair, I'll be right back." Hardison obeys and in another moment she is pushing a bed through the wide door.

"Thank you!" he beams while she flips down the guard rails and lines up the new bed next to Parker's.

"It's a slow night," she shrugs. "If anybody asks, you're nauseous and that bed was already in here." They both thank her again but she waves them off, disappearing out the door.

"She is so nice! I hope she doesn't get into trouble," Parker says as Hardison climbs into his bed.

"If you were planning on thanking her, I suggest money and not a kiss." Her laughter is heavy with sleep. She turns on her side and curls up next to the seam of the two beds.

"How can I be so tired? I just slept eleven hours." She lays down her heavy head, her nose just inches from Hardison's shoulder.

"Don't fight it, girl," He says watching her eyes drift closed.

"I should have let you find me," she murmurs, already half asleep.

"I know." He kisses the top of her head before finally letting himself relax.


	5. Mad? Scared? What's the difference?

"So, what's the next job?" Everyone at the table turns to stare at Parker. "What?"

The team starts speaking at once but they all say basically the same thing. "Parker, are you crazy? You almost died yesterday! You need take it easy!" is the collective message.

She drops the half eaten piece of asiago ciabatta bread that Eliot had baked to go with the chipotle chicken with rosemary cream sauce on a bed of angel hair pasta. Even though it is delicious, she pushes the plate away, ignoring the last few bites.

"We'll just take a week off, Parker," Nate says noticing her change in demeanor. "No big deal."

"The doctor doesn't want you doing anything strenuous for at least three days," Hardison reminds her.

"All he said was no cardio or heavy lifting."

"That includes scaling buildings and diving down elevator shafts," Eliot informs her.

"Uh! So I m being punished now?"

"No, darling. You're not being punished," soothes Sophie. "You just need to rest up. We all do."

"Are you going to do a job without me?"

"Of course not!" Nate exclaims, not sure where this is coming from.

"That's fine if you do," Parker states, not convincing anyone. "I'll get out of your way." Without another word she shoves away from the table leaving the team stunned in her wake.

"Eliot, why don't you make sure she gets home ok," Nate suggests, heading toward the staircase.

"But, keep your distance," Sophie adds.

"What the hell just happened?" Hardison asks now that he and Sophie are the only ones left.

"She's scared."

"Really? Because she seemed pretty mad to me."

"She's mad _because_ she's scared," she explains. "Parker really needed us yesterday, you especially.

"And, we came through for her. What's the problem?" He really isn't getting it.

"In her whole life, the only person she could really depend on was herself," Sophie says patiently. "The more she allows herself to rely on us, the more it will hurt if she loses us. That terrifies her. Every other person she's let in has either hurt her or abandoned her."

"But, I would never-"

"I know that," she pats his hand in a comforting gesture. "But she doesn't. Not for sure."

"So what do I do?"

"You just have to prove it to her. A little bit each day."


	6. Unlocked or not, it's all the same

Even in the dim light of early morning, their contrasts are startlingly obvious. Her alabaster skin practically glows against the navy blue sheets and his dark body. The slight chill in the air causes him to stir, pulling her closer and burrowing his nose deeper into her icy blonde hair.

"Hmmm... Parker," Hardison mumbles, still half asleep. "Parker?" he questions, thinking that his dream is getting outrageously realistic. "Parker!" he says in alarm after finally opening his eyes.

"Huh? What?" She mutters groggily.

"Girl, how long have you been in this bed?" She wasn't there when he fell asleep. He's quite certain he would have remembered that.

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"Hold up, how did you even get in here?" He sits fully upright, finally noticing the unusually low temperature of his bedroom. One quick glance rewards his curiosity: one of his windows sits half open.

"Your window was open," she says unapologetically, but shrugs like a child who was just scolded. He misses her skittish reaction as he throws back the blanket to haul himself out of bed.

"Seriously? It is thirty-five degrees outside!" Hardison exclaims as the soles of his feet hit the frigid hardwood floor and he almost trips over a pile of ropes and climbing gear. "You know damn well this window was closed." He firmly pushes the window down and flips the lock back in place.

"Well, it was unlocked." Parker turns onto her side, feeling unwanted and on the brink of tears. "That's just as bad," she tells the wall.

"Parker..." her name sounds like a challenge. He strides across the room and picks up a small electronic tablet off his dresser. With a few taps on the screen, he checks his security systems and turns the heat up a few degrees.

"Ok, fine!" she says, freeing herself from the sheets with jerky motions. "It wasn't _exactly_ unlocked but, that isn't a real lock. It's just a latch. That shouldn't even count!"

Hardison is surprised by her outburst and is momentarily frozen as she pulls her boots on.

"I thought this was a thing that people do, that friends do. When they're upset and can't sleep, they-" her voice starts to crack when she tries the untangle her harness. She is determined to get out before he can see her cry. "It was a mistake, I'm sorry. I'll go and leave you alone. It won t happen again, I just-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he bursts out, trying to catch up. He's in front of her in two quick steps but reaches for her hands carefully. "I don't want you to go," he says slowly. Parker drags her eyes up, forgetting about the tears she was trying to hide. "I just want you to use the front door-"

"Like a normal person would," her eyes drop to their hands again.

"Like a friend," Hardison corrects, moving his palms to rest on her upper arms. Although her head is still bowed he can see the cautious smile start to form. Parker takes a half step forward, close enough to rest her cheek on his chest. The hard panes of muscle tighten under the soft cotton t-shirt as he wraps his arms around her.

She doesn't return the motion, her arms hang at her sides, but he feels her body relax against him which is more than he expected.

'So, this is what it feels like to not be alone,' she thinks to herself while listening to the steady beat of his heart. They had been saying 'friend' a lot, but this didn't feel like a friend thing anymore. Not to Parker, anyway. She couldn't picture herself doing this with Eliot or Nate, not even Sophie. 'Maybe I'm not doing it right,' she muses, 'what if I m a terrible friend?'

Alec Hardison wasn't wondering anything. He knew this had gone beyond friendship a while ago. He was using this moment to kick himself. 'Did something heavy fall on my damn head? When you wake up with a beautiful woman magically in your bed, you don't ask her how she got there! No! You just pull her close and thank god.'

As much as he is enjoying where the moment had taken them, he wracks his brain for a way to get them back into the nice warm bed without breaking the spell.

"Are those polar bears?" Parker asks, interrupting his thoughts. In the gray light of dawn, she is looking down at his pajama pants. They are bright blue with white polar bears walking in neat rows across them. It should also be noted that they are quite obviously too big; at least six inches of extra material pool on the floor around his feet.

"Excuse me, my nana sent me these for Christmas last year," he says, sounding very much like himself. He stands back to look at the ridiculous pattern. "If I had been _expecting_ company I would have worn... something with-out bears..." he trails off.

"Why are they so big?" She steps out of her harness and pulls off her boots.

"Nana seems to think I'll grow into them."

Parker smiles brightly for a moment but her eyes seem far away. She is imagining what it would be like to have someone send her unnecessary things on Christmas or her birthday. Of course, nobody knows when her birthday is or, more importantly, her mailing address. Aside from that minor glitch, it sounds kind of nice.

This time Hardison notices the little shift in her mood and gets an idea before she can try to jump out the window again.

"Don't move! I got something for you." He walks back to his dresser and rummages in the third drawer. "Close your eyes," he commands gently; she obeys. When he allows her to open them she is staring at a familiar polar bear pattern.

"What's this?"

"The top half, I never wear 'em, so..."

"So, I can have them?" she asks in disbelief.

"Yeah." 'When was the last time this girl got a gift?' "Can we please go back to bed now?" Parker nods, still staring at her impromptu present. "Good. Put your new pj's on," Hardison says motioning toward the bed. "I like the whole robbery/chic thing you got goin', but I don't like sleeping next to a ninja."

Like a gentleman, Hardison looks away when Parker starts peeling off her black t-shirt and pants. It isn't easy, but he manages. By the time he turns back, she looks just as ridiculous as he does. The soft material falls almost to her knees and the sleeves have swallowed up her hands, but for one lonely hacker it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He takes a deep breath and swallows hard as Parker climbs into his bed. He reminds himself not to ask any stupid questions this time.

Hardison tries to look as casual as possible while clambering into bed after again almost tripping over Parker s rope and harness. She settles in exactly as before, aside from the wardrobe change. Her companion, on the other hand, is doing a spastic shuffle trying to decide the most appropriate way to sleep. He wants to pull her as close as before but, more than that he really doesn't want to scare her away.

He ends up laying stiff as a board, staring at the ceiling, wondering how many jokes Eliot would be making if he could see him now. After a few moments of silence their breath starts to even out. He thought Parker had fallen asleep until she turns over and stares at him.

Neither speaks, but millimeter by millimeter she closes the distance between them. Hardison lifts his arm and she crawls into the gap resting her head on his chest.

"Do you want to tell me why you came here tonight? Why you can t sleep?" he asks when the silence becomes too heavy.

"No,... This is enough for now."

Alec Hardison doesn't ask anymore questions. Instead, he listens to her steady breathing. He relishes the feeling of her body against his. Although he fights to stay awake, wanting to enjoy this as much as possible, he soon falls asleep with the scent of her hair filling his nostrils.


	7. Rude Awakenings

By the time they wake again, the morning is half gone. They would likely have slept through the whole thing were it not for the banging on the door. Hardison grumbles getting out of bed, but Parker just nestles deeper into the covers. As he nears the door the banging becomes more insistent. It couldn't be anyone but Eliot.

"Parker's missing," he says the moment the door opens. "Sophie wanted me to check on her this morning and she's gone."

"Uh…Are you sure?" Hardison stalls. No matter how innocent last night was, he knows how it looks. Eliot has threatened bodily harm for a lot less.

"The girl lives in an empty warehouse. It's pretty easy to see if she's there or not." Eliot walks in, subconsciously scanning the room as he always does.

"She lives in a warehouse?" asks Hardison still rooted to his spot at the door. "I thought she lived at-"

"So did I. Decoy."

"A warehouse, huh?"

"Yeah," Eliot says as if it were the most natural thing in the world, like living in an empty warehouse was the latest trend. "Makes sense," he continues at Hardison's dubious look. "Quiet at night, lots of space, easy to spot any suspicious characters and various exit possibilities," he lists off without much thought. The hacker just shakes his head in astonishment. "Do you still have a tracker in her shoes?"

"Yeah, but it's only one pair and she ain't wearin' them," He replies distractedly. He's weighing Eliot's potential wrath against running barefoot in January. "Maybe you should check her place again…right now."

"And, how is it that you know which shoes Parker is wearing at any given moment?" Eliot turns back to Hardison who is still hovering near the door.

"He saw me take them off," Parker says flippantly, strolling between them toward the kitchen. "That's probably how." Eliot's face is frozen aside from his eyes that widen as he takes in the situation, noting the matching pajamas.

"It's not what it looks like!" Hardison interjects, already raising his hands in defense.

"What does it look like?" asks Parker from behind the refrigerator door.

"She broke in! I am the victim here!"

"Yeah, because when somebody breaks into my apartment I always give them my best pj's and invite them to bed!" Eliot states sarcastically and moves to close the gap between Hardison and himself.

"If they looked like Parker, you would." He has a point, although the elevated tone of his voice undermines his credibility.

"Did you know that I don't like sleeping alone?" Cereal bowl in hand, Parker leans against the counter, unaware that Hardison's life might be in danger. "I just found out yesterday! All this time I thought sleeping alone was fine, but it turns out sleeping _with _someone is way better."

She takes an enormous bite as Eliot's brotherly instincts kick in. His protective feelings toward her are sweet, but potentially hazardous for Hardison.

"She means the regular kind of sleeping, Eliot!"

"What other kind of sleeping is there?" Both men turn to her with odd expressions. "Oh, you mean sex! No, I just came here to sleep."

"Parker, I have a spare room and my apartment is three blocks from your place. You're always welcome there," Eliot informs her. Hardison relaxes a bit as the hitter's voice becomes less raspy.

"I thought you might have a girl over." It's a fair assumption.

"No chance of that here," Eliot mutters.

"Hey!"

"And, I don't like that mattress," Parker adds, ignoring Hardison's indignation. "It made my back hurt last time." She walks over to the couch and misses the look that Eliot is giving her.

"When were you in my apartment?" he asks coolly.

"I go there all the time. You have the best water pressure." Eliot is too stunned to respond. "He uses really fancy shampoo," she whispers to Hardison, who, now feeling safe, has sat down at the other end of the couch.

"Parker!"

"What? I do it to everybody. It's good practice."

"So, you've broken in here before too?" Hardison inquires disbelievingly.

"I do all my laundry here. Plus, I like your bed the best."

He is slightly wounded by this revelation. She came for the bed. The fact that he was in it was just a coincidence.

"Sophie has the best food," Parker continues. "And, Nate's place has the best hiding spots. Did you know he whistles when he's alone? Well… when he _thinks_ he's alone," she corrects.

"I have to call Sophie," Eliot announces.

"To tell her I steal her food?"

"No, to tell her you're alright! She was worried about you." He then turns to stare Hardison down. "And, you…"

"I know! Blah, blah, blah, you'll rip my arms off and beat me with them," the hacker surrenders.

"We'll talk about this later."


	8. Goldilocks and the Sting

"So, Goldilocks, you been sleepin' in my bed?" Hardison accuses after Eliot leaves.

"Only when you fall asleep at the computer," she defends. "Which is a lot."

"Not last night…"

"Eliot's place is nice. Huge kitchen," Parker says, not knowing how to respond to his comment. "But, it kind of smells like a locker room."

"Are you ever going to tell me why you were so upset last night?"

"Yes."

"Anytime soon?" Hardison ventures, drawing her attention out of her cereal bowl.

"I screwed up!" she blurts out after a heavy pause.

"It was an accident."

"It shouldn't have been!" She puts her breakfast on the coffee table and pushes herself back into the couch cushions. "Any idiot could have seen that the pier was dangerous."

"Parker, everything you do is dangerous," Hardison points out as gently as possible.

"Exactly! I should have known that the structural integrity was compromised." Her body is practically buzzing with anxiety at this point.

"We all make mistakes," he offers.

"Not people in my profession." She levels her gaze on him. "One mistake and we're either dead or arrested."

"You're not dead and you're not under arrest," he points out.

"Because of you!" Parker exclaims in agitation. To Hardison, she seems angry, but he reminds himself of Sophie's words. _'She's mad because she's scared.' _"If you hadn't been there-"

"Eliot was right behind me."

"But, what if he-"

"Nate would have been right behind him." He really doesn't want her to finish that train of thought. "And, Sophie…well, I'm not sure if she would have jumped in herself, but you can bet your ass she would have gotten ten of the toughest fishermen in that harbor in a heartbeat."

Parker smiles at the thought, but is determined to get her point across.

"What if all of you hadn't -"

"But we were," he says cutting her off again. He edges over and tentatively places a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to worry about what could have happened."

"I would have died," she says after making sure he was finished. Hardison swallows hard and shrugs noncommittally. "I thought I _was_ dead." Her voice seems fragile and thin. "I was fighting so hard but I couldn't get anywhere. My body just kept getting heavier." Tears are filling her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. "Then you were there, pulling me out. After that, I just remember falling. I waited for the impact, but it never came."

"You passed out. I caught you."

"I thought I died and went to heaven," Parker mumbles with childlike innocence. She blinks away her tears and shakes her head to snap herself out of it. "I've had close calls before, but it was different this time. "Usually at the last second I would think about my money and the stuff I hadn't gotten the chance to steal yet." Hardison can't help but smile at this. "This time I thought about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you and Eliot and Sophie and Nate." For the second time this morning she has hurt him without realizing it or intending to. "I thought about the team and the job; the client and his daughter… I've never disappointed anyone before. When I'd screw up, it only affected me." She stares at her hands for a long moment. "I let you guys down."

When he tries to dispute the statement Parker clamps her hand over his mouth.

"I'm not finished!" she cries. "What if Nate finds a better thief?" She drops her hand to reveal on odd smile on Hardison's face.

"Is that really what you're worried about?" She nods. "Parker, you don't have to worry about that," he says, staring straight into her eyes.

"How do you know?" She asks, sounding much younger than her years.

"Because I'm like the smartest dude on this block," Hardison declares trying to lighten the mood. When she doesn't even crack a smile, he takes a deep breath and tries again. "There's nobody better than you," he states simply. "Even if Nate could find somebody better, he wouldn't want them."

"That doesn't make sense," she squeaks.

"Baby, you don't have to understand it. You just have to believe it." The whole concept seems to confuse her. "Trust me. You're stuck with us," he adds, sliding an arm across her shoulders. She considers this statement for a moment then accepts it whole heartedly. Parker is hugging him before he can react. Hardison barely has a chance to enjoy it; she pulls away faster than she launched herself at him.

"So…What will we do today?" she asks, leaning back and putting her feet up. "Since I can't do anything supposedly _strenuous_." Parker seems fully recovered. No one would guess that she was at the brink of tears a few minutes ago.

"Mama, I got 700 channels," he says, handing her the remote and ambling toward the kitchen. Hardison soon returns to the living room with a pop-tart and a bottle of orange soda. "Breakfast of champions," he proclaims when Parker turns up her nose. "What are we watching?"

"I don't know. I thought it would be about a mutant bee, but-"

"What?" He bursts out, taking a better look at the screen. "Parker, this is The Sting," he says with emphasis.

"Never heard of it," she shrugs.

"Wait, you're a con artist and you've never seen The Sting?"

Her blank look is answer enough. Hardison insists that this must be rectified immediately and backs up the movie to the very beginning. He tosses her a blanket and they get comfortable as the sound of an old time piano playing 'The Entertainer' fills the room.

(AN: if you like leverage and you haven't seen 'the sting,' you need to. I'm not going to give anything away.)


	9. Girl Talk

"Why did you send Eliot after me?" Parker asks out of nowhere. It had been two weeks and one job since her dip into Boston Harbor. Her random question comes in the middle of a forced shopping spree. On the last job there was an incident with a chain link fence and a vintage Yves St. Laurent dress that Parker had borrowed from Sophie. When the grifter saw her with Eliot's jacket draped over her shoulders she almost cried (It really was a beautiful dress). Sophie held it together but decided that the thief would not be scrounging from her wardrobe again anytime soon. "Parker, you need to be prepared. You're not always going to be the cater waiter," Sophie had insisted. So, here they were.

"Hmmm?" she mumbles without looking up from the rack.

"That day, after I got out of the hospital," Parker elaborates. "Why did you send Eliot to check in on me?" Her arms hang at her sides with two shopping bags in each hand. She had long since given up the fight and accepted whatever garment that Sophie shoved at her.

"I was worried about you," she explains obviously. "You seemed really upset, I thought you might run."

"Oh." She cranes her neck to look down at the cocktail dress Sophie is holding up to her body. "I thought about it."

"You ran, alright," Sophie remarks, discarding the dress and putting it back on the rack. "Just not _away_."

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on, Parker! Eliot told me where he found you," she abandons the rack and turns her full attention to her companion. "And, the state of dress you were in…"

"It was the morning. I was still in my pajamas," Parker says, not understanding Sophie's innuendo.

"Matching pajamas?"

"Hardison doesn't like sleeping with ninjas," she retorts matter-of-factly. "What is this? Did I do something wrong?" she asks, clearly uncomfortable under Sophie's scrutiny.

"No, darling. It's perfectly alright with me."

"Then why are you interrogating me?"

"This is what girls do," Sophie explains. "We go shopping and gossip about our boyfriends."

"Hardison's not my boyfriend!" She isn't entirely sure what he is.

"Fine. We'll gossip about the men we're sleeping with," she concedes.

"Who are you sleeping with?" Parker asks innocently.

"Nobody! Uh-We're talking about you."

"So, what am I supposed to say?" She's apparently unfamiliar with the idea of girl talk.

"You know…how is he?" Sophie nudges. "In bed," she adds at Parker's perplexed look.

"Oh! Well,…normal, I guess."

"Oh." She frowns in disappointment.

"He doesn't snore," Parker supplies. "But, sometimes he talks in his sleep."

It takes Sophie a minute to realize that they are talking about two different things.

"Parker, when you say 'sleeping with Hardison,' you really do mean-"

"I've been sleeping with Hardison! Why does everyone get so hung up on that?" The volume of her voice mixed with the subject matter earn the pair half a dozen curious looks. Sophie can't help but laugh.

"So, there's nothing going on between you two?" She already knows the answer to that.

"No…Not really…"

"Not really?"

"Well, we've kissed," Parker admits.

"I'd say that's something."

"It was just to thank him for saving my life," she defends and Sophie nods in approval. "And, to thank him for the pajamas…and when he made me dinner…and when he lent me his jacket…"

"Parker!"

"I didn't steal it! We were walking along and I was cold. He just gave it to me, I didn't even ask. It was weird."

"How much time have you been spending with Hardison?" Sophie asks, finding it sad that chivalry is such a foreign concept to the girl.

"Most nights." Every night. "Then the mornings too, obviously."

"Obviously."

"A day off, here and there…"

"And, how many times have you kissed him?" Sophie wonders how Hardison is dealing with the odd course of their relationship.

"I don't know. I wasn't keeping track."

"So, you're telling me that after all that, you've never slept together?" she asks in disbelief.

"We sleep together all the time."

"I mean sex, Parker!"

"Why didn't you just say that then?" she demands in exasperation. "No, we've never had sex."

"That boy is a saint," Sophie mutters. "Parker," she says, stopping their progress through the department store, "You can't just keep grabbing him and kissing him."

"Yes, I can. He doesn't mind, he told me so."

"No. What I mean is, I think this relationship has a lot of potential beyond just random kissing."

"Hmmm…" The girl's brows furrow in concentrated thought.

"Parker," Sophie says kindly. "Why did you go to Hardison's apartment that very first night?" She's asking for her friend's benefit more than her own.

"I couldn't sleep."

"But, why go to Hardison? Not me or Eliot or Nate." Parker might not fully understand what love is but, Sophie would be willing to bet that she's in it. Or, at least, on her way.

"I don't know," she shrugs. "He was the first person I saw when I woke up in the hospital. He was holding my hand and he seemed so happy to see me. It was…nice."

Sophie knows that Parker is a highly instinctual person. She isn't surprised by this somewhat diluted explanation. The girl is acting on her feelings for Hardison without even knowing it.

"Why do you keep going back?"

"Well… when I'm at his place, when I'm with him, I feel- I don't know. I can't explain it."

"Try, Parker." She's pushing, not out of curiosity, but so Parker can sort out her emotions.

"I feel safe," she says simply. "And, welcome. Not out of place or in the way. You know, like I belong there." She's speaking slowly, as if realizing these things for the first time.

"At home?" Sophie offers.

"Yeah!" Parkers exclaims, glad to finally find the right way to put it. "And, Hardison always smiles when he sees me, like he's glad I'm there. Even though he's usually yelling at me for breaking in."

"There's a word for that. The way you feel around Hardison," Sophie informs and Parker waits expectantly. "Loved." The younger woman's face twists in confusion. "That's what it feels like when a man loves you." Parker's eyes widen and she starts breathing heavily. Sophie links her arm and pulls her dazed friend along. "Alright! On to the shoe department. Isn't girl talk fun?"


	10. No backward glances

"Reg, listen to me!" Hardison is growing frustrated. He almost smacks the webcam so the kid will get the message.

"Why would they make a version 9 that isn't better than version 8?" the boy reasons.

"Reggie, you are 17. I am your elder, now shut up for a second." Hardison ignores the eye roll and continues. "They rushed the release of 9. There's still a ton of kinks to work out so version 8 is still the best value." As the nerd debate rages, he doesn't hear the front door opening or the shopping bags being dropped just inside it.

"Fine, A. I'll wait on it."

"Good. You can wait on that attitude too," The kid on the computer screen makes another face but doesn't argue anymore. "So, what else has been going on?"

"Tina's got a boyfriend."

"What? She's fourteen! What's she need a boyfriend for?"

"Alec, she's sixteen now. Catch up!"

"I don't care how old she is, she's still too young." Parker followed the sound of his voice to his computer room. "What's this punk's name?" Hardison asks and swivels to a different screen, pulling up a background checking program.

"Marcus Ha- Hey, who's that?"

"Who's- Parker!" He jumps when he turns to find her standing right next to him. A smile spreads across his face once he catches his breath.

"Who's this?" Parker asks, leaning over his shoulder toward the computer.

"Parker, meet Reggie. He's one of my foster brothers." She waves. "Reggie, this is my-uh…Parker."

"Oh, is that your girl-"

"Ok, Reg, I gotta get going," He rushes in to cut him off. "Just text me that name and I'll check him out."

"Yeah, alright."

"You look out for Tina, you hear me?" The boy nods in a very teenage way. "And, don't give Nana any trouble. I mean it, I'll whoop your ass."

"_She'll _whoop my ass!"

"Better believe it. Ok, bye Reg."

"Later, A." With that the window closes and they are left in silence.

"How'd you get in this time?"

"I just picked the lock," Parker says cavalierly. "I had too many bags to use the ducts."

"I gave you a key!" Although the fact that she used the front door is at least a step in the right direction.

"It's more fun to break in," she rationalizes. "It's nice that you stay in touch," she adds, glancing at the darkened computer screen.

"So, you survived shopping with Sophie?" He asks, standing up.

"It wasn't so bad. She wouldn't let me steal anything though."

He laughs and starts to walk toward the kitchen, but she puts a hand out to stop him. He looks first at the hand resting on his forearm and then to her face. Hardison can't read her mind but he can tell that there is a lot happening behind those eyes. Parker moves to stand right in front of him and rising to her tip toes she gently brushes her lips against his.

'This is odd,' Hardison muses. Not the kissing. That has been happening quite frequently in the last two weeks. Usually when Parker kissed him it was an ambush, hard and fast. Just when he would get his bearings, she would be pulling away. Then she would resume whatever she was doing as if nothing had happened. This time is odd because it is slow and deliberate, no sneak attack here. And, when she pulls away she doesn't go far.

Parker relaxes back onto her heels, allowing Hardison's arms to stay securely around her. Her hands come to rest against his chest as she watches his reaction.

"What was that for?" It had become his catch phrase. After every kiss he would ask that as soon as he regained his senses. The first explanation was to thank him for saving her life, but lately her reasons had become more trivial. The most recent was to apologize for using the last of the milk.

"Because I wanted to kiss you," she says timidly. Her eyes drop to her hands that are absently fingering the material of his shirt.

'This is the turning point,' Hardison realizes. Until now, this relationship has moved at Parker's pace. He knew it had to be that way. No matter how badly he wanted more, he couldn't push her. It wasn't always easy to hold back, but it was better than the alternative. He couldn't risk scaring her away. He knew that the wall surrounding her heart had to be taken down brick by brick.

So, he never made demands and always let her initiate physical contact. That may have been the hardest part. In the meantime, he enjoyed her presence to the fullest and was grateful for the time they spent together. He was certain it would lead to something.

This is it. This is the moment, the click. This is the last brick being pushed aside to let him in.

"That's a good reason." Hardison reaches up to take her face in his hands. He is finally able to do the thing he's been thinking about for weeks. He kisses her. A good, long, slow kiss. No distractions, no interruptions.

Parker responds in turn and the kiss soon intensifies. She pulls him toward her and together they stumble back, bumping into his desk. When he lifts her onto it, her legs instinctively wind around him. In another moment she is tugging his t-shirt over his head.

"Are you sure?" Hardison asks breathlessly at the point of no return. Parker nods fervently and they never look back.


	11. I know

"I really don't understand how people keep mixing this up with sleeping."

At some point they had migrated to his bedroom. Now they lay in what has become a normal position for them, with one small alteration: They are both naked.

"Parker, what's your real name?" Hardison asks nuzzling her bare shoulder.

"There's nothing _real _about it." He feels her body tense slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"That name was a scared little girl. She was angry and alone. That's not me anymore." He pulls her closer but doesn't pressure her to continue. "I don't think I'd even recognize her."

"Everybody evolves as they grow up. Or, at least, they're supposed to." The statement comforts her. 'Maybe there aren't as many things wrong with me as Eliot always says,' she thinks. "So, Where did 'Parker' come from?"

"Spiderman."

"Really?"

"The first thing I ever stole was a comic book."

"Peter Parker…"

"I thought it was so cool how he could climb walls and swing around on skyscrapers." A childlike smile spreads over her face but quickly fades. "When my brother died it was my escape. Then everything else fell apart…Eventually I just ran. I didn't want to take _her_ with me, so I became Parker."

Her words hang in the air for a long time. Hardison knows that she rarely speaks about her past. Even though she kept her name a secret, what she did share meant a lot.

"I'm hungry," Parker announces and hops out of bed. As usual, she seems completely unbothered by her own nakedness, but for once he doesn't look away. Hardison watches with a lazy smile as she strolls to his dresser and pulls out the top half of his polar bear pajamas. She moves comfortably in the fading light of early evening, unaware of his gaze.

After slipping on the oversized shirt she steps into a pair of his boxer-briefs. Still lost in thought she walks to the window while arranging her hair into a loose braid. When she glances around looking for a hair band, she finally notices him.

"What?"

"I love you, Parker." He had imagined being smoother about it, but as he watched her, he just couldn't hold it in any longer.

An awkward blend of emotions parade across her face. Shock to joy to fear to curiosity then back to fear before shaking herself back into the moment. It was as if Parker just spun an emotional wheel of fortune and Hardison had to wait to see which one she landed on. It feels like the longest three seconds of his life.

"I know," she says trying to sound casual. She tries to imagine how Sophie would react, cool and collected. She doesn't want him to know that she can't remember the last time someone said that to her. She spots a hair tie on the bedside table and is happy to have something to occupy her hands.

"And, how is that? You're the first person I told!"

"Sophie told me."

"How does Sophie know?" He really thought his declaration of love would be more of a bombshell.

"I don't know, but I wouldn't discount mind reading. Maybe she brainwashed you!"

"She didn't brainwash me!" He doesn't think. "Nobody is going to trick me into loving someone. I did this all on my own."

"If you say so…"

"_If you say so_," he mocks. Hardison gets out of bed, grumbling all the way. "Woman, I know what I'm feeling. It's a- thing, in my chest…and my stomach…and a little bit in my throat. Last time I try to be romantic…I don't need this shit, with the dry mouth and the sweaty palms. Overrated is what it is." He pulls on a pair of jeans and a ratty t-shirt and walks barefoot toward the kitchen.

"Come on, we're getting takeout," he says in the middle of his rant. Parker follows happily, knowing that it's only the 'bark.' He doesn't have a 'bite.' "_I know_, that's what she says to me. I say, 'I love you,' and she says 'I know.' That might work for Han Solo but I need a little more reassurance than that. _I know_…" he rambles as he sifts through the various takeout menus piled by his phone.

Hardison jolts slightly when Parker comes up behind him. She wraps her arms around his slim torso, resting her head between his shoulder blades. This silences him.

"Did you really mean it?" she asks after listening to his heartbeat for a few moments.

"Ask Sophie."

"I'm asking you."

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"Will you say it again?"

"I would imagine it might come up again, yes," he says, his façade of annoyance melting.

"Will you say it again right now?"

"I love you." He drops the Chinese food menu and rests his palms on top of her hands.

"Thank you."

'It's better then nothing,' he concedes.


	12. The Talk

It was an unconventional relationship but it works. It evolved slowly. Nobody really noticed at first. Sophie started throwing out more and more moldy leftovers. Eliot's water bill went down. Ropes and random climbing gear could be found scattered around Hardison's apartment. They never left together but they always seemed to head in the same direction.

Sophie knew the pieces were there and it was only a matter of time before they fell into place. So, when she saw the little signs she said nothing. The team would find out eventually and they would all have to deal with it, but she wasn't going to be the one to out the couple.

On a flight back from Paris after a job, Eliot couldn't ignore it any longer. Nate and Sophie were on a different flight but he sat across the aisle from the remaining two members of the team. Parker was curled up with her head on Hardison's shoulder. Her arms encircled one of his, causing his hand to rest on her thigh. He looked very comfortable and so did she.

Eliot considers sending a threat Hardison's way, but it wouldn't do much good. They are both sleeping peacefully. When he really thinks about it, he has to admit that Parker has seemed happy in the last few months. Not that she seemed unhappy before, but something was different lately. He decides to save the threats until Hardison actually screws up.

Nate finally had to open his eyes six months later. They had just finished a job and the team was starving. Parker heads for the bathroom right before the server arrives to take their order.

"Did Parker say what she wanted?" Sophie asks, clearly hoping that they don't have to wait.

"She always gets the orange chicken," Hardison says without looking up from the menu. They are usually pretty careful, but the innocent comment just slipped out. Sophie looks to Nate wondering if he suspects anything.

"Have we been here before?" asks Eliot, checking out the waitress.

"Haven't we?" Hardison squeaks, finally realizing what his statement might imply. "Didn't we order from here after that con with the money and the bad dudes?" He shrinks a bit behind his menu.

"Yeah, I think so," Sophie comes to the rescue.

"No, we've never been here. I would have remembered a smile like this," Eliot winks at the waitress.

"Do you need another minute?" she asks blushing furiously.

"Yep, thanks." Nate closes his menu to give Eliot a warning look. He then notices that Sophie is trying to read his mind and Hardison is hiding. 'What the hell is going on here?'

When Parker returns they fall back into easy conversation and the waitress soon reappears. Everyone orders without incident until it comes to Parker.

"I'll have the orange chicken."

It takes her a moment to realize that the entire team is staring at her. Hardison looks panicked, while Eliot is about to laugh. Sophie looks fearful and her eyes keep darting back to Nate. The brains of their operation wears a peculiar expression. It's almost as if you can see the wheels turning.

"What? It's good," Parker exclaims. "I get it here all the time-ow!" She scowls toward Hardison before realization dawns. "At a different restaurant…that I go to alone."

Eliot can't hold it in anymore. He chuckles ignoring Hardison's glare. Sophie immediately jumps in, changing the subject but the damage was done.

Sophie is very good at what she does. She's a world class grifter. She knows how to steer a conversation. Even though she can make sure no one talks about the possible relationship between two of their teammates, it doesn't mean Nate will forget about it.

* * *

Hardison made it to the fortune cookie. He thought he was home free. Parker left before him as usual. He knew she would be somewhere in his apartment when he got home.

_His apartment?_ No, it was her place too. It had been for a long time. Before she brought over her plant or took half the closet. Before he had installed the extra shelves and hooks for her harnesses and ropes. Before he had an entire cabinet dedicated to cereal or gave her a key (which she still had yet to use).

It was hers the moment she crawled into his arms that very first night. She had looked into his eyes daring him to push her away. He didn't and he never would. Hardison hoped she knew that now.

Lost in thought, Hardison doesn't notice Eliot leave. He snaps out of it when Sophie is saying goodbye.

"Alec Hardison, I promise I will always speak well of you." She kisses his cheek and glides away.

"Hold on, Sophie! Can I hitch a ride-"

"Sit down," Nate says shortly.

"-or I could stay here with Nate for a while."

"Let's talk!" he says, his voice mockingly cheerful.

"What about?"

"Oh, I think you know."

"I could probably guess," Hardison says cautiously.

"Your apartment is just around the corner from here, isn't it Alec?"

When Sophie uses his first name it is to show her sincerity. When Parker does it, it's just plain sexy. Eliot doesn't ever do it. 'Damn it, Alec!' doesn't have the same ring to it. Hearing 'Alec' from Nate is frightening, and the older man knows it.

"Yes, sir"

"And, you've been to this restaurant before? A few times at least." Hardison nods. "With Parker?"

"Yes, sir," he says swallowing hard. He curls his hands into fists, not out of animosity, but out of a strange fear that Nate might break his fingers.

"Parker is a very special women. Very odd, but very special."

"I know that, Nate."

"She is also very fragile." Hardison nods again. "If it were just a matter of business, I would have to say that both of you are integral pieces of this team. Without the two of you this group would not function." The younger man is about to thank him for the compliment but Nate cuts him off. "But there are other hackers in the world."

Hardison wants to make a smart remark but he holds back. "Just remember that," Nate continues, "if you ever even consider letting your personal relationship interfere with a job.

"But you and I both know that this isn't just business." The mastermind's tone is still menacingly calm. "Parker is like a daughter to me. And, you? You're like…" he pauses to glance at the check.

"A son?" Hardison supplies hopefully.

"No," he says flatly. "No, Alec. You're like a punk, who might very well hurt my daughter." Hardison opens his mouth to dispute this, but nothing comes out. "If you make her cry, I will make you cry," he says in a sinister whisper. "And then I will call Eliot and he will break both of your legs. Very creatively, I suspect."

"Understood," Hardison croaks.

"Excellent." Nate hops up and tosses down a few bills. "You have a good night!" He strolls out leaving behind a very shell shocked young man.

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much," Sophie says falling into step on the sidewalk.

"Somebody had to do it. I would have let Eliot do the honors, but we need Hardison's fingers unbroken. All ten of them." Sophie rolls her eyes and links his arm.

"For a con artist, you really need to learn to lie better." Nate actually looks hurt by her statement. "Come on, Hardison _isn't_ like a son to you?"

"No, he is," he admits. "But he's also a punk who could break her heart."

"You boys are absolutely adorable," Sophie mutters.

"So how long has this been going on?"

"Ages, love. I can't believe it took you this long to see it."

"I knew something was up."

"Sure you did." They squabble like an old married couple all the way back to Nate's apartment.


	13. Still Alright, Always

"Did you get lost?" Parker is perched on the counter with a bowl of ice cream when Hardison walks in the door. "What took you so long?" she asks when he shuffles past her in a daze. He continues to the couch then falls face first into it. He turns his head to keep from suffocating, but other than that shows no signs of life.

He can hear the bowl being placed in the sink, but after that Parker is silent. He catches the scent of her hair so when she speaks he doesn't flinch.

"They know, don't they." He nods, opening his eyes so see her kneeling next to the couch. "What did he say?"

"Do you remember that scene in The Godfather when Michael confronts Carlo about setting up Sonny. And he tells him to relax, he's not going to kill him because he would never make his sister a widow. Then, like ten minutes later he _does_ kill him."

"No," She says apologetically. He smiles, realizing that even if he had to endure a hundred of those talks, it would still be a small price to pay. Coming home to this was well worth it.

Hardison pushes himself up into a sitting position and pulls Parker into his lap. "Well, it was a lot like that."

"Are we still alright?" she asks leaning into his chest.

"Of course. Nothing anyone could say would change that," he says resting his chin on her shoulder. "I think it's good that we don't have to hide it from them anymore."

"I should probably start packing."

"What? Why would you have to-"

"Isn't that what the 'Godfather' talk was about? This," she motions between Hardison and herself, "isn't allowed so now Nate has to kill you."

"That's not what the talk was about!"

"What was it then?" Parker cranes her neck to see his face.

"It was the usual father/boyfriend intimidation talk."

"Oh, _that _talk." She clearly has no idea what he means.

"Nate did say no funny business on company time. But, the main thread was that I'm replaceable and if I hurt you Eliot is going to break my legs."

"Really?" she wonders, obviously touched by their concern.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be this excited about my legs being broken."

"I never had a father to threaten my boyfriend with bodily harm before."

"Yeah, and you never had boyfriend to be threatened before," he points out. "You got both now, and we're not going anywhere."

"I know." She says it offhand but then it hits her. It's true. Parker has never been more sure of anything in her life. She has total faith that Hardison and the rest of her 'family' love her. They won't hurt her or leave her behind. "Hardison?"

"Yeah?"

"Alec," she says twisting to fully face him. "I love you, too." Her response is a few months late, but he has waited patiently. Years, decades, centuries, he would have waited. She knows that. It is one of the reasons she loves him.

"I know," he replies pulling her close.

"Hey! That's not what you're supposed say," she bursts out, pushing him back at arms length.

"That's what you said to me the first time," he exclaims.

"And, you got mad at me!"

"Ok, ok," he surrenders. "You want to try again?" She nods and bounces off his lap and onto the couch, landing with legs crossed. He turns toward her, laughing as she clears her throat and settles in.

"I love you," Parker states much more confidently this time.

"I love you, too." One of those Christmas morning smiles spreads across her face and she launches herself at Hardison. Her hug almost knocks the wind out of him. In normal Parker fashion, her recoil is almost instantaneous.

"I'm getting more ice cream," she announces trotting back to the kitchen. "Want to watch Ghostbusters?"

"When don't I want to watch Ghostbusters?" He has the movie queued by the time she returns. She has forgone the bowl this time, reappearing with the just the tub of ice cream.

"I love you," she says briskly and hands him a spoon.

"Ok…I love you, too, Parker," Hardison replies tentatively.

"I'm just trying to get used to the idea," she explains.

"So am I."

* * *

AN: I'm pretty sure that's the end. Thank you for all the lovely reviews, but mainly for reading it at all.

I have another little idea about Hardison enlisting the team's help to hide an engagement ring from Parker. Can you imagine hiding a diamond ring from a cat burglar and the world's greatest pick pocket who also happens to live and work with you? Not easy I'm guessing. That might be an additional chapter but it won't be for a while or it might just be a sequel. If anyone else wants to run with that be my guest.

hope you all enjoyed my little yarn. there really aren't enough Parker/Hardison stories that beyond one-shots. Can't wait for the next season!


	14. Alpine Butterfly

End of Part One- Intermisson

Hey everybody! I'm back! Those other ideas wouldn't leave me alone, so I have to continue. I thought about starting a new story but I really like this back drop so I want to run with it. I have a rough outline but we'll see where this goes. I'm going to try to work a job into the plot, wish me luck!

We're picking up with them a little while down the road. It's now December, almost a year from when the story started. The rest of season three has happen including taking down Damien Moreau. Everything, with the exception of the Christmas episode. I'm kind of replacing it, so I will be using bits of it here and there. I own nothing and i hope you enjoy it. Stick with me! We're getting pretty far off the rails now, but I'm going to do my best to keep the characters realistic.

* * *

End of Intermission- Part Two

"Eliot, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, for a straight guy you do own an awful lot of scarves."

"That wasn't what I was going to ask." Hardison scowls at Eliot who grins back unapologetically. "You know what, never mind. I thought maybe you would want to be a part of something beautiful, but no. Next time I have a question I won't ask my _best friend, _I'll just call the psychic hotline or something."

"I was kidding! What do you want?"

"I need to hide something from Parker."

"What did you do?" Eliot asks, all humor disappearing from his voice.

"Nothing!"

"Damn it, Hardison!"

"Seriously! It's nothing bad!" His hands instinctively rise in defense. "I have to give her -something. I just need to keep her from finding it until we head up to the cabin."

"Is it a puppy?" he questions sarcastically. "Because I don't allow anything that ain't potty trained in my cabin."

The cabin in question is actually one of Eliot's safe houses, and in three days the whole team is taking a Christmas vacation. Two weeks in a cozy cabin on a frozen lake, just the 'family' and no jobs.

"No, it's not a puppy."

"Well, what is it?"

"I don't have time to get into it now. I have to run to the mall and return _somebody's _Christmas present." Hardison starts packing up his gear as Sophie strolls in.

"No fighting you two," She scolds while peeling off her fake eyelashes. "The job is done and it's almost Christmas."

"Where's Parker?" Hardison asks glancing furtively toward the door.

"She's with Nate. They'll be along in a bit." She puts a hand on Eliot's shoulder to steady herself as she unzips her boots and slips them off. "He insisted on returning that limo we stole."

"Good," he states then motions for Sophie to take her comm. out. She does, but eyes him suspiciously. "What I was _trying_ to tell Eliot is that I need your help." As he speaks he rummages through his computer bag. "I need to make sure Parker doesn't find this until I want her to."

"Is that what I think it is?" Sophie asks, her eyes glued to the jewelry box in his hand. It's a very specifically sized jewelry box.

"Well, it sure as hell ain't a puppy," Eliot comments, now feeling a little guilty for not taking him seriously before.

"May I?" inquires Sophie, cautiously reaching for the box. Hardison offers it up and she takes it as gently as if it were made of paper lace. "Well done, Alec." Even Eliot is a little impressed. "That's an 'old European' cushion cut blue diamond. It's beautiful. Two karats?"

"Almost two and a half." That doesn't include the smaller diamonds that border it.

"Very nice. Is this custom made?" she wonders.

"Yeah, check this out." Hardison reaches over and takes the ring out of the little box. Turning it around, he reveals an elaborate pattern opposite from the stone. The thin band is wound into a knot with another small diamond in the loop. "It's an alpine butterfly knot, Parker's favorite."

"Oh, yeah," acknowledges Sophie, remembering seeing it frequently.

"One of the strongest knots there is," Eliot agrees.

"I just figured…she trusts it with her life," he says shrugging. "I want her to be that sure of me."

"That's very sweet," she says still examining the ring in awe.

"So, you're on board?"

"What do you need?" Eliot says begrudgingly.

"Tell me where to hide it?" The 'duh' is implied with his tone. "I'm going to ask her when we're up at the cabin. I just need to keep it hidden until then."

"Let's think…" Sophie takes a moment to get into Parker's mindset. "We can't put it in a safe. We'd run the risk of her cracking it for fun."

"Anything that is by definition secure is out." Eliot starts to pace. "No lock boxes, nothing like that. And you'll want to keep it close."

"If it were any other woman, you could just slip it in you pocket, no problem," Sophie says regretfully.

"She steals my wallet once a week," Hardison informs them.

"Mine too," Eliot growls. Their grifter tries and fails to suppress a smile.

"If it were any other woman," he sighs heavily, "I wouldn't be proposing."

"We need to do a 'rolling blackout'," Sophie decides with a glint in her eye. At their lack of recognition she scoffs in exasperation. "Honestly! I should write up a handbook or something."

"What's a 'rolling blackout'?" the boys ask looking nervously toward the door.

"Basically, we just keep constantly moving it. No real plan, no patterns to pick up on. Passing it between the three of us-"

"And Nate," Hardison is sure to add.

"We can conceal it in random objects, everyday things that she wouldn't notice or be interested in digging into."

"You sure it'll work?"

"Of course!" Sophie promises and starts eyeing up Nate's book shelves. Her delicate fingers drift over the spines before landing on a thick leather bound volume. She tosses it to Eliot then rearranges the other books so its absence is inconspicuous.

"The Art and Artistry of Alpine Skiing?"

"It's thick enough and Parker would never pick it up," she reasons.

"Yeah, there's no pictures," Eliot quips while paging through it. "Hope it's not Nate's favorite," he adds, snapping it shut and producing a knife.

"I'm pretty sure it came with the shelf."

"It's for a good cause," Hardison rationalizes as Eliot starts hollowing out a small compartment.

"I'll take it first," Sophie volunteers. "And, I'll pass it off if she gets too close." She holds out her hand for the little leather box and the hacker reluctantly gives it up. "Hardison is our last resort. Under the circumstances, he'll have the worst poker face."

"As opposed to all those other times when he's James Bond," mutters Eliot, still slicing into the old book. Sophie ignores the squabbling that ensues in favor of gazing at the ring again.

"Shh!" she exclaims getting their attention. They all freeze, hearing voices outside the door. Eliot shoves the book at Sophie and the ring disappears within it. Then he and Hardison scramble to get rid of the scraps of paper just as the door opens.

"He wasn't in a crosswalk!"

"Parker, that doesn't give you the right to hit a pedestrian," Nate says, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I only _almost_ hit him," she explains, trying to get the others on her side. Hardison grins but Eliot and Sophie just shake their heads. "I would have swerved if he hadn't moved."

"Limos don't really handle all that well."

"I've never had a problem before," she states, hopping onto the nearest countertop. Everyone looks at her wondering if that was in her days as a getaway driver or a car thief. Or possibly from another chapter of her criminal life that hasn't yet been illuminated.

"Ok," Nate interrupts their thoughts. "I agreed to go away for the holidays but I've had enough of you guys for one day." He waves over his shoulder heading upstairs.

"What's that?" Parker asks Sophie, ignoring Nate's request for solitude.

"Oh, just a little reading material for the trip." Cool as a cucumber, she turns the book over in her hands and holds it out to Parker. Hardison holds his breath as the girl leans forward. She reads the title then sniffs it suspiciously, but never actually touches it. He sighs in relief when she loses interest.

"Eliot, are you sure there's going to be snow?" Parker has been asking at least once a day since the trip was planned.

"Yes," he replies in exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's Minnesota, there will be snow!"

"Hardison, bring up the forecast for- Where is it again?" Sophie says pointing toward the big screen.

"Excelsior," Eliot reminds her. "It's right on Lake Minnetonka." Hardison does as he's told and in seconds two different weather reports are being shown.

Parker grins. Not only is it snowing there, right now, but there's more in the works for the upcoming week.

"Happy now?" Hardison asks. She nods and hops off the counter.

"Come on," she says, grabbing his hand. "We still have time to get to the mall. I want to get my picture taken with Santa!"

He lets her tug him out of the apartment, but glances back at Sophie and the book in her hands. She pats the cover and waves him off.

"Eliot, do you suppose that was code for-"

"Nope," he states with certainty. "She actually wants a picture with Santa Claus."

* * *

More to come, hopefully soon.


	15. RingaDing Ding

When Nate descends the spiral staircase, Sophie is the only one still lingering. He is freshly showered, dressed and in a much better mood than before.

"What are you still doing here?" he wonders with half a smile.

"There's something you need to know," she says, taking a sip of wine. As she raises her glass he notices the ring on her left hand.

"Sophie, what is that?" he asks, all the color draining from his face.

"Oh, this?" She fingers the stone nervously, really playing the part. "It's an engagement ring." Not technically a lie…

"What?" His jaw drops and he heads for the nearest bottle in a clumsy daze. He pours a shaky drink and gulps down half of it before turning back to her. "I'm sorry, did you say _engagement_ ring?"

Sophie tries, she _really_ tries to keep a straight face, but she can't hold it for long.

"You should see your face!" she bursts out laughing. "Oh, I should have taken a picture!"

"What the hell is going on?" he demands, getting angry. "Sophie!" he snaps as she continues to giggle.

"Alright, I'm sorry. It's not mine," she surrenders. "I couldn't even consider getting engaged without presenting him to the team first. You guys are my family."

"Him? Who is this guy?" Nate asks quickly.

"Nobody. It's a hypothetical 'him'." She holds out her hand to watch the gem sparkle. "Do you really think I'd keep some mystery fiancé from you?"

"Well, you're not the most forthcoming person in the world. You won't even tell me your real name."

"A woman without secrets?" she muses. "That's like a night without stars. A Fourth of July without the fireworks…A song without-"

"I get it!" he erupts in annoyance. "What do you know about the Fourth of July? You're British."

"I know there's fireworks." She removes the ring regretfully and places it back in the box, but leaves the lid open. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes," he agrees cautiously, hoping she'll explain the ring before he embarrasses himself further. Sophie isn't about to make it that easy for him. "If it's not yours, whose is it?" he asks finally.

"Parker's," she states matter-of-factly. "Not yet, I suppose. Soon, though."

"Huh," is all Nate gets out. He knows he shouldn't be surprised, but it's still a bombshell.

"He's going to ask her at the cabin," Sophie continues. "I hope he doesn't put it in food. Why do men always thinks that's romantic?"

"You've seen Parker eat…"

"If she doesn't choke, she probably chip a tooth." She snaps the box shut and slips it back into it's hiding place. "Anyway, he's enlisting all of us to help keep it hidden until the big moment."

"Rolling blackout?" She nods in response. "I just can't believe it," he mutters while refilling his glass.

"What? You can't believe our little Parker is all grown up?" she asks nostalgically.

"It's not that- Well, it's a little bit that," he admits. "But, we live so far outside the normal societal patterns. The idea of them doing something as conventional as getting married just seems odd."

"It's hard to picture them picking out china, fighting over seating charts, taking silly dance lessons…" she trails off. Imagining the unlikely situation brings an odd mix of emotions. She's obviously happy for the both of them. Then, in the back of her mind she wonders, because of the life she's chosen, if she'll ever have something like that for herself.

"I think it's wonderful," Sophie says brightly to shake off the lingering question. "It means he's doing it for the right reasons." Nate nods in agreement. "It seems you're taking this pretty well."

"It's possible I'm still in shock from when I thought it was you." He scowls when Sophie starts to laugh again.

"Eliot owes me ten bucks. He bet that you'd break something."

"I'm so glad you could profit from my-Hey! Is that my book?"

"Yes…"

"Sophie, that was a first edition!"

"Desperate times…" she says apologetically.

* * *

short and sweet, but it's only the beginning. i've got a five year plan in the works...


	16. The Rules

In the next three days the ring makes the rounds. It starts with Sophie then gets passed to Eliot under the table during lunch. He wraps it in plastic and hides it in one of Nate's coffee canisters. After that it gets shoved into the back of Eliot's CD player where a D battery would belong. It spends a few minutes under Nate's hat and a few hours in the lining of Sophie's purse. And, while Hardison wasn't happy about it, the ring even resided in Eliot's boot at some point.

On the day before their trip, Sophie gives it back to Hardison when she picks up Parker for a forced visit to the spa. The hand off is so smooth that he doesn't even catch it right away.

"Come on, Parker," Sophie coaxes. "The boys are just going to watch football. Doesn't a nice spa day sound so much better than that?"

"Are strangers going to touch me?"

"It's a good touch, Parker," Hardison says massaging her shoulders to prove his point. She warily agrees, but with stipulations.

"Nobody's tying me up in seaweed!"

"Fine. No seaweed wraps, I promise," she appeases hopefully. "Does that mean you'll come?"

"I'll get my coat." Sophie beams in delight, following Parker toward the door.

"You won't regret it!"

"If I'm not back by night fall-"

"I know," Hardison interjects, coming to see them off. "I'll round up the cavalry."

"Don't worry," Sophie assures both of them. "It's going to be great. Have fun being manly," she adds, playfully tugging on the strings of Hardison's hoodie.

"Just try to stay out of trouble," he returns, giving Parker a quick peck as she departs.

"We will!" Sophie winks before the two disappear. He seems a bit confused by the signal until he checks his pockets. There, resting safely in its little box, is the ring he's betting his future on.

Hardison gazes at it for a long moment before slipping it back into his pocket and heading to McRory's. He finds Nate at the bar…drinking…alone. He takes the adjacent stool and orders a beer before he acknowledges the older man.

"I think it's your turn, man." Hardison places the ring on the bar and slides it toward Nate. "We haven't really had the chance to talk about all this." The man puts down his drink to flip open the jewelry box. He appraises it passively, but says nothing. "So, what do you think?"

"Pretty. I'm sure any woman would be happy to wear it," Nate replies noncommittally.

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it," Hardison says evenly. "I've never asked someone to marry me before. I'd feel a lot better if I knew you approved."

"It's not my approval you should be worried about."

"Yeah, but - Wait," he says in obvious concern. "You think I should be worried?" His eyes are comically wide as he takes a nervous swig of his beer.

"I swear, Hardison, sometimes you make it too easy," Nate comments with a smirk.

"Seriously? This is not the time for your mind games."

"Right, sorry." As the mastermind looks at the man next to him, he sees a glimpse of himself. He remembers the mess that he was before proposing to Maggie. "Alec, you're a good man and you make her happy. How could I possibly disapprove?"

"Thanks, Nate. That means a lot."

"Are you sure you know what you're getting into?

"To be perfectly honest, no." Nate chuckles softly into his drink. "But, I don't care. As long as it's me and Parker…I'm in." Nate seems to accept this answer and raises his glass. "Here's hoping she says yes," Hardison mumbles before their glasses clink.

"Come on, Alec. I don't know what Eliot's cooking upstairs, but it smelled pretty good last time I checked." Nate pockets the ring as they settle their tabs and relocate to the apartment.

While the men eat jambalaya and act as men do, the women are being pampered. In separate, identical rooms Sophie gets a facial while Parker opts for a massage. After that they sit side by side for their manicures and pedicures. By the time they are all done, Parker's opinion of spas has completely changed.

"I think we should do that more often," she says dreamily as they walk into Nate's apartment.

"I have been asking you to go for months!"

Sophie's comment is lost in the greetings from the guys. She grabs a bottled water and settles into an arm chair. Parker hops over the couch's back, landing between Eliot and Hardison.

"I smell like a candy cane," she announces swinging an arm over each of their shoulders. Her man, unable to deny his curiosity, turns to sniff her, but Eliot just clenches his jaw.

"They had this blue peppermint oil they use during the scalp massage," Sophie explains. "It was marvelous."

"Look!" Parker bursts out, wiggling her freshly painted fingernails in front of their eyes. "Overexposed in South Beach."

"What?" all three men ask.

"That's the name of the color," she elaborates. Eliot finally bats her fingers out of his face and shrugs her off.

"OPI always has weird names," Sophie chimes in, holding up her own hands now. "Glitzerland," she supplies as proof.

"Fascinating," Eliot beams with fake enthusiasm, to which Parker flicks his ear in response.

"You do that one more time and I'm cooking rabbit for Christmas dinner," he growls. "Mmmm, bunny!" Parker's mouth drops open in horror.

"Can't we do a goose?" asks Sophie. "Like a traditional English Christmas."

"Ah, no. This is America. Christmas means turkey," Hardison says confidently.

"That's Thanksgiving-"  
"It's Christmas, too," he argues back. "We love our turkey."

"I thought we agreed on ham," Nate pipes up. Parker remains silent, having few holiday memories to draw from.

"_We _didn't agree on anything," Eliot insists. "Since I'll be the one cooking, I'll decide what we're having."

"Well, whatever you choose, I'm sure it'll be delicious," Sophie gushes. "Just rem-"

"No!" Eliot cuts in pointing a stern finger at her. "None of your mind tricks! I've already decided and your little word games aren't going to change anything."

"That's what she wants you to think," Hardison says cryptically.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Exactly."

They debate the Christmas menu rather zealously until Nate finally kicks them out. His breaking point came when Eliot threatened to make hot dogs and mac and cheese.

"Alright, alright! We have plenty of time to fight about it when we get there!"

"It wouldn't be Christmas without at least one family feud," Hardison notes.

"I think we got that covered," mumbles Eliot.

"Good, so let's put this debate on hold for…fourteen hours," Nate says looking at his watch.

"This isn't over," Sophie whispers toward Eliot who only makes a face in reply.

"8 am, tomorrow. Don't be late," Nate warns. "Do I need to go over the rules one more time?"

"No hitting on the flight attendents," Eliot grumbles.

"Christmas carols will only be played, sang, hummed or whistled in the forty eight hours of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day," Parker recites dutifully.

"No tracking Nate's alcohol consumption," Sophie says in defeat.

"And Hardison, the most important rule of all?"

"Every time a bell rings-"  
"I'm adding no movie quotes to the list," Nate cuts him off.

"No jobs," they say in unison.

"Very good!"


	17. Gingerbread Safe House

"Sophie, how many bags do you have?" Eliot asks in annoyance

"Just two," she replies innocently.

"What are those other two then?" Parkers asks pointing across the room.

"That is my purse and my carry on," Sophie defends. "Is that all you're taking?" she motions toward Eliot's single duffel bag.

"I don't need anything that's going to slow me down or hinder my range of motion."

"You know she just wants you to carry her bags for her," Parker muses.

"It would be the gentlemanly thing to do," Sophie pouts after giving the girl a harsh look.

"I'm not your pack horse!"

"Fine," she concedes. "But, I bet I don't have to lug these bags more than twenty feet."

"Ten bucks?"

"You're on."

"Hardison, lend me ten bucks. I want in," Parker says, but he's too nervous to hear her.

"Hmmm? What?" he mumbles snapping out of it.

This is the beginning of the launch sequence for him and the engagement ring. The start of this trip starts the clock. He has two weeks the work up the courage to ask her to marry him.

"Eliot, I wouldn't take that bet," cautions Nate. He notices Hardison's distractedness and pats his bag to assure the ring's safety.

Nate's assumption is correct. Eliot should not have bet Sophie. He's reaching for his wallet before they even enter the terminal.

They check in without issue, but Nate gets pulled aside as they make their way through security. They all tense up, none more than Hardison, as their mastermind is led behind a clear glass partition.

"Mr. Baker, we noticed an abnormality in the scan of your bag," the surly looking airport security woman is saying as she pulls on a pair of latex gloves. "If there is anything you'd like to declare, now is the time," she drones on, having repeated this speech countless times.

"No, ma'am. Nothing." While the officer is at least ten years older than Nate, she still scowls at his use of 'ma'am'.

"Did you pack this bag yourself?" she asks unzipping said bag.

"Yes,…officer?" he ventures tentatively.

"Doreen," she supplies.

"Yes, Doreen," he says with his most charming smile, but with little effect.

"And, did you leave it unattended at anytime?"  
"Not that I recall."

"Would you care to explain why there is a diamond ring hidden in a hollowed out book? Because that's kind of suspicious."

I can explain that!" he says tightly, motioning for her to keep her voice down. "It's an engagement ring and it needs to stay hidden for the time being." Nate glances nervously back at the team and gives Doreen a hopeful grin.

"For the brunette? She's a lucky woman," she says with an appraising look at the ring.

"The blonde actually."

"A little young for you, isn't she?" Doreen eyes him with suspicious disapproval.

"Oh, no! I'm not the one proposing," he explains quickly. "The guy next to her, he's the boyfriend."

"The one who's blinking rapidly and -twitching?"

"That's the one."

"Well, good luck to him," she says, smiling for the first time. "You can replace your items in your bag and be on your way."

He thanks her graciously and shoves everything haphazardly back into his bag.

"Merry Christmas!"

With one hurdle cleared, Hardison relaxes a fraction. The flight to Minneapolis is uneventful, aside from the fact that it is packed to capacity, with at least two babies on board. Other than Eliot being more irritable than usual, they reach Minnesota safe and sound. By early afternoon they are in a rental car headed toward Eliot's cabin.

"This is your _safe house_?" Nate asks from the passenger seat. It's a lot nicer than he expected.

"Not all safe houses are tin sheds with a mattress on the floor," Eliot says, his mood easily read in the way he jams the SUV into park.

"It's so cute!" Sophie gushes, but changes her tune when she sees him scowling. "I mean rugged and manly."

"It looks like a gingerbread house," says Parker with a grin as they start to unload. She's not entirely off base. It's a good sized cabin, sided with wide wooden planks, white trim and a big red door; absolutely adorable. And, to Parker's delight, it is covered with snow.

"You didn't want a house someplace nice and warm?" Hardison asks, teeth chattering. "Why here?"

"I've never lived or worked here. I don't know anyone who's lived or worked here," Eliot rattles off as they trudge through over a foot of snow to get to the door. "It's out of the way and people mind their own business." He pauses at the door, checking his pockets for the keys. "Parker!"

"Sorry!" she exclaims, handing them over. "I'm so excited. I can't help it!"

"Plus, there's good fishing," Eliot adds thrusting the door open. "I gotta turn on the power and water. Nate, give me a hand?"

With a dubious look, Nate follows him out to the utility shed. Meanwhile, the others bring the bags inside and start opening shades.

"Ring," Eliot states simply once they are out of sight. He points Nate toward the breakers then gets down to business. He pulls a dusty tarp off a woodpile, and starts shifting a few logs on the end. The two return a few minutes later just as the furnace kicks on. Eliot lights a fire while the rest explore the house and pick rooms.

"Are you all unpacked?" Hardison asks Nate as soon as he could slip away from Parker. "_Everything_," he continues pointedly," in its place?"

"Yeah, Eliot helped me," he replies, catching on easily.

"And, you're sure it's safe?" he asks under is breath.

"Yes."

"Positive?"

"Yes!" When Hardison doesn't seem satisfied, Nate continues, "Trust me." He glances around to make sure Parker hasn't snuck up on them. "It's in a hole in the ground under a pile of wood in an unlocked shed. I think it's safe for the moment."

The younger man nods in approval, but still looks nervous. Hardison nearly jumps out of his skin when Parker's voice interrupts them.

"Are you ready?" she asks, appearing behind him. "Haven't scared you in a while," she giggles at his reaction. "I _still_ got it."

"I was just checking if Nate wanted to come along," Hardison lies quickly.

"Thanks, but I'm going to pass." Although Nate doesn't know the activity, he decides that opting out is the safest bet. When he finds out they are going Christmas tree shopping, he's glad he did.

* * *

just a little exposition, it's all coming together. more on the way soon!


	18. Meet Jordan Schulz

I said there was a job in the works and this is the beginning. A lot of Eliot in this one, hope you don't mind.

* * *

"Damn it, Hardison," Eliot practically yells. "All Christmas trees are dead! They've been chopped down!"

"I know that, Eliot," he replies, trying to stay calm. "My point is that I didn't want a tree that actually _looks_ dead."

"It didn't look dead."

"It looked sad." Parker twists in the passenger seat and takes Hardison's hand. "We had to get it," she continues, her eyes winning him over. "Nobody else would have. It'd still be there, all alone on Christmas if we didn't take it home."

"Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown," he mutters in defeat.

After the tree lot, the next stop is a nearby hardware store for decorations. As Parker and Hardison debate whether to get an angel or a star for the tree, Eliot veers off on his own. He's almost on autopilot, adding basic supplies to his cart without much thought.

"Excuse me, could you help me?"

It takes him a second to realize that the woman is talking to him.

"I'm sorry, I don't work here…" he trails off when he turns toward her. She's cute and just his type.

"I know, but you look a lot more reliable than him," she motions toward the seventeen year old store clerk. "I mean you're wearing plaid and boots. They're all scuffed up and everything." She sounds tired, but Eliot knows better than to point that out to any woman. "Look at him. He's wearing Pumas and they're still shiny." She makes a valid argument.

"So, what's your question?"

"Somebody smashed my window, and it's twelve degrees outside so I can't just have a hole in my house." Judging by her body language, the situation isn't as simple as she's making it sound. "What do I do?"

"I would suggest buying a new window and hiring someone to install it," Eliot states as kindly as possible.

"That sounds great, but I can't. In addition to not being able to afford a security system, new windows and their installation aren't in the budget." Her voice is getting more and more strained. "All that junk about glass houses is bullshit. It doesn't matter if you throw stones or not. It still comes back to money." She stops after hearing how harsh she sounds and rushes to apologize. "I'm sorry. That was _so_ much more information than you needed."

"That's okay," Eliot says, amplifying the southern charm. "I can tell you're really upset."

"I run a shelter for abused women, and somebody broke in today. We're all on edge."

"Was anyone hurt?" He's already steering them toward what she'll need.

"No, they just trashed my office."

"Was anything taken?" he asks tossing a box of nails into the cart.

"I haven't really had the chance to take inventory. I'm focusing on patching up the stupid hole." Again, Eliot can sense there's much more below the surface, but chooses not to press her.

"Do you have a circular saw?" he asks instead.

"Circular saw?"

"Yeah, you'll need it to cut the plywood to size," Eliot explains.

"I have a hammer and a screwdriver…and they both have pink handles."

"It's okay, I have one I can lend you."

"Thanks," she says starting you relax a bit.

"Don't worry about it," he says laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. When she flinches slightly he quickly apologizes and takes half a step back.

"No, _I'm_ sorry. I'm a little jumpy today."

"That's understandable."

"I just can't figure out why anyone would do this. We don't have any money, it's a non-profit. I work part-time doing hair just to keep the lights on." Her emotions are getting closer and closer to the front. "These women, some of them leave everything behind. They come to me to feel safe."

Her voice cracks slightly as her eyes well with tears. "Now I can't even give them that." The girl blinks rapidly and straightens up. "Sorry. We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Jordan Schulz," she says glossing over the tension of the previous moments. "I'm the crazy girl the harasses strangers and breaks down in the middle of Menard's."

"Eliot Spencer," he says shaking her hand. "I think I can help."

"I knew it," Jordan replies with false optimism. "Those boots are a dead giveaway."

"Here he is!" exclaims Parker bounding around a corner. Hardison is close behind, arms full of lights, tinsel and ornaments. "We need your vote to break the tie," she says holding up an angel in one hand and a star in the other.

"Do I look like I care?" Eliot asks gruffly.

"Not really," Hardison states the obvious before dumping everything into the cart. "Who might this be?" he asks finally noticing the stranger.

"And, how does she feel about tree toppers?" Parker adds.

"Guys, meet Jordan Schulz. This is Alec Hardison and Parker," he points to each of them in turn.

"Nice to meet you," she responds politely. "And, I vote for the angel."

"Yes!" Parker hisses. She puts the angel in the cart and strolls victoriously down the aisle to return the rejected star.

"Were you dropped on your head or were you just born stupid?" Eliot asks, smacking the back of his friend's head. "Don't you want her to say yes when you propose?" Hardison shushes him violently and nervously surveys the area. "Until that ring is on her finger, you agree with her. Any discussion, any debate, Parker wins. Got it?"

"Fine, as long as you stop telling random strangers about it!" Hardison whispers harshly. "No offense," he adds, nodding at Jordan. She shrugs in acceptance, clearly unbothered.

"She's not a stranger. She's a client," Eliot corrects.

"Nate said no jobs. He said it about twelve times."

"It's not really a job," he explains further. "I'm fixing a window and you're installing a security system."

"No! I can't ask you to do that," Jordan interjects. "I was venting before. It's not that big of a deal. I just need a circular saw." Seeing that they are completely unconvinced, she quickly loses steam. "And, someone to show me how to use it…" she trails off. "It's going to be fine."

The guys ignore her protests and start discussing details. Motion activated flood lights, security cameras, new dead bolts, the works.

"We'll need to make two extra stops," Hardison announces, eyes glued to his phone's screen. "But they're both pretty close. We should be able to get most of this done tonight."

"Good. Let's get going. Where's Parker?"

"Uh-Oh," Hardison mutters, seeing her wide grin as she returns.

"Parker, what is that?" Eliot asks slowly.

"A snowman," she says innocently.

"What does it do?" He's already dreading the answer.

"Sings…dances a little."

"Why is it dressed like Elvis?"

"I like it," Jordan chimes in.

"Nate's going to hate it," Hardison realizes.

"He's not the only one…" Eliot grumbles.

"So, maybe he won't notice that we're doing a little side job."

"We're doing a side job?" Parker asks excitedly.

"Not we. Us," Eliot states certainly. "You and the snowman are staying home." Parker pouts a bit when he relays the plan and Jordan tries to object again.

"It's okay," Parker cuts her off. "This is what we do."

"Are you guys like the A-Team or something?" she asks, only half kidding.

"You know it!" Hardison beams. He takes the two foot tall Elvis Snowman off Parker's hands and throws and arm across her shoulders. They stroll toward the checkout, leaving Eliot and Jordan behind.

"I'm sorry to dump all this on you."

"She's right. This _is_ what we do. Everyone deserves to feel safe, and we can help."


	19. Elvis, the snowman

"Just because I'm black, that automatically makes me Mr. T?" Hardison argues as they return to the cabin. Eliot hefts the tree while the other two are laden with bags.

"So, you think I'm Mr. T?" Eliot says skeptically.

"Of course! He's the muscle."

"Who would I be?" Parker asks.

"Murdock," Hardison states. "You're the wildcard, baby!"

"Nice," she exclaims, giving him a high five.

"Just how many trees do we have to decorate?" Sophie wonders, starting to pick through the bags.

"It's a pretty scrawny tree. Lots of gaps to fill," Hardison says mockingly.

"What's all this?" Nate questions when he comes across some of the security equipment. Eliot starts to explain but Hardison interrupts.

"He met a girl at the hardware store."

"What did you offer to do?" Nate asks with a knowing smile.

"Somebody broke in, smashed a window," Eliot explains nonchalantly. "I'm going to board it up and Hardison is going to put in some basic security measures."

"I thought we decided that we weren't going to do any jobs over the holidays," Nate says, even though he's sure he would have done the same.

"It's only half a job." Eliot considers reasoning with him, but soon changes his strategy. "Hey, look what Parker found!" He points to the snowman that Hardison has placed in the center of the table. When he pushes the button it starts swaying and singing 'Blue Christmas.'

Nate attempts to remind them of the restrictions he put on Christmas songs, but it's futile. Eliot and Hardison are singing along with equally ridiculous Elvis impressions. Parker is dancing while unpacking all the decorations and Sophie is snapping pictures of the whole scene. Nate tries to be mad, but it doesn't hold.

"I think Eliot is the winner," Sophie decides, showing Nate a few of the shots she's gotten.

"Yeah, but Hardison is so committed," he counters. "You have to respect that."

As soon as the song ends, Parker pushes the button again and a new song pours out. This time Elvis is crooning 'I'll Be Home For Christmas.' It's too much for Nate who retreats to his room with a generous glass of scotch.

"See? Worked like a charm," Hardison comments triumphantly. He pats the snowman's sleek bouffant before gathering up their supplies and heading back out into the snow.

* * *

"About a hundred years ago it was a school," Jordan informs them. Hardison's mumblings of possible ghosts earn him Eliot's elbow to his ribs. "My grandfather is the one who bought it and remodeled."

"How long has it been a shelter?" Eliot asks, examining the front door and its lock.

"Almost thirty years now." She pauses for a moment, unsure of how much to they really need to know. "When I was a baby my mom killed my dad in self defense. After we showed up on this very doorstep she and my grandma turned it into what it is today."

Both men are a bit stunned but say nothing. Instead they continue to go about their work; Eliot putting in a new dead bolt and Hardison installing a camera. The latter is oblivious, but the former is fully aware of the eyes on them. A few curious heads periodically peek around corners and a little blonde girl stares through the bars of the banister.

"I take it you don't get a lot of men dropping in," Eliot says, testing the new lock a few times before handing the keys to Jordan.

"There is our handyman, Norrie, but he's in Arizona for the winter." An afterthought occurs to her and she adds, "Of course, he is seventy six and he looks like Burl Ives…"

"So, that's why I feel so unwelcome," Hardison murmurs.

"You're not unwelcome," Jordan insists. "Just out of the ordinary." She turns and motions to the little girl hiding on the stairs. "Hey Kasey, why don't you come down and meet my new friends." With a bit more coaxing, she eases down to the second step but not an inch further. "This is Eliot and that's Alec."

Kasey gives a timid wave, revealing a neon green cast on her left hand ending just before the elbow.

"They're putting in big new locks and fancy cameras," Jordan says, sitting on the steps beside the girl. "Isn't that nice of them?"

"He has hair like a girl," Kasey whispers loudly, then scurries back up the stairs.

"I like her," Hardison grins.

"Shut up!"

* * *

"Why do you hate Christmas so much?"

After Sophie promised to remove the batteries from Elvis, the snowman, Nate agreed to come out and help with the tree. When Parker starts with the twenty questions, he immediately regrets his decision. Sophie blocks his exit, forcing him to squirm against the blonde's curiosity.

"I don't _hate _Christmas."

"You hate all the songs, and movies and decorations," she points out while circling the tree with a string of lights.

"I don't hate all those things." He stops to choose his words carefully. "They remind me of things that I miss and that makes me sad."

"That wasn't so hard," Sophie comforts. "I think this is really good for you. Almost like therapy."

"You mean your family," Parker states bluntly, causing the other two to cringe. "Your ex-wife is still alive. If you miss her so much, why aren't you with her? You still love her, right?"

"Ah, well," Nate stammers trying to read Sophie's mind. "Yes, but in a different way," he continues carefully.

"Then why did you kiss her when you thought that elevator what going to blow up? And you get all huffy when she's with other people."

"Yes, Nate, why is that?" Sophie chimes in.

"It's a complicated situation."

"I am a ver-We," Sophie corrects quickly. "_We_ are very intelligent women. I'm sure we can handle it," she asserts.

"I will always care about Maggie," he says after a long drink. "But the truth is, we aren't the same two people who fell in love. We never will be." The meaning that hangs in the air would be palpable to anyone except Parker. She is too busy with the tinsel to notice the looks that Nate and Sophie are sharing.

"Do you think that will happen to me and Hardison?" she asks, stopping her circuit of the tree. Sophie is quick to deny the possibility, but Parker rambles on. "If we ever split up, I hope I hate him…That whole loving someone but being apart sounds really awful."

"It's a different kind of love," Nate shrugs while pouring another drink. "It doesn't feel the same as what you have with Hardison." He honestly hopes that she will never fully understand what he's talking about. Parker mulls this over for a moment then nods in acceptance.

"What about you, Sophie? Have you ever been in love?" she asks in genuine interest.

"Yes, a few times, I suppose," she replies vaguely, hoping that it will be the end of this line of questioning.

"Do go on," Nate says smugly. "Don't be shy. It's very therapeutic."

"So you were in love with a person and one day you just stopped?" Parker wonders. She can't fathom the idea. "And then later you loved someone else?"

"Sometimes when you fall in love…" Sophie tries to find a metaphor that she will understand. Money. "Sometimes it's like winning the lottery. It happens really fast and it turns your whole world upside down." Parker is with her so far. "But, eventually it's spent up and there's nothing left. Then all you have are fond memories and possibly a tattoo…"

"That's very well put," Nate says evenly before quickly adding, "Do you have a tattoo?"

"For you, it's different," Sophie moves on, ignoring Nate completely. "It's more like working for a paycheck. Everyday you give and take. In return, you get love and security, support and affection," she goes on wistfully. "Like a nice steady paycheck, you know it's coming. In a week, in a month, you know that person will be there with you."

"In a year?" Parker asks, her voice thin and cautious.

"In ten years," Sophie says with conviction. Her heart constricts thinking of Parker and Hardison. She remembers their first meetings and imagines what they will become as the years go by. She pulls herself out of her reverie to see that Nate seems to be thinking about the exact same thing. Again, Parker is completely unaware of the looks they are exchanging, as she flits around placing colored balls on the spindly branches.

* * *

"What do you think Parker will say?"

It's getting late and the guys are almost done. Eliot is putting insulated tape around the edges of the board to stop the drafts. Hardison is on Jordan's computer brining up the camera feeds.

"When?"

"When I propose!"

"I know," Eliot chuckles. "It's just funny to see you get all worked up."

"What is wrong with you? This is not the time to mess with me!" Hardison sulks.

"You said it yourself, she's the wildcard." Eliot pauses to examine his work. "In any given situation, I have no idea what she's going to say or do."

"Maybe she doesn't want to get married," Hardison worries. "Maybe I should scrap this whole thing. Oh, god. What if she laughs at me?"

"She's not gonna- Well, she _probably _won't laugh at you."

"Thanks. I feel so much better," Hardison says sarcastically.

"Has she ever hinted that she wants to get married?" Eliot asks honestly.

"Does Parker ever _hint_ at anything?"

"Good point."

"I doubt she even thinks it's an option." He pushes away from the desk and starts gathering stray cords and wires. "She's never seen a functional, long-term relationship. Getting hitched is something regular, law abiding citizens do. Not us."

"Man, she never stood a chance," Eliot muses, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?"

"The rest of us, maybe we didn't grow up in Norman Rockwell paintings, but we had a chance."

"What? To be normal?" Hardison ventures.

"Yeah," Eliot replies. "I don't think any of us would be very good at it. And, I'm sure I'd be bored, but at least I had the choice."

"What are you saying?" Hardison asks, unsure of where this revelation is going.

"I'm saying you should ask her. She deserves it." He snaps his tool box shut and turns to face his friend. "More than anybody else I know. She deserves some solid ground for a change."

Hardison is about to agree with him when Jordan walks in.

"I can't thank you enough. I wish there was something I could do to repay you," she says sadly. Both men are quick to shrug off her gratitude and Hardison goes about showing her how to access the camera and the rest of the security system.

"You can view all four feeds, but if you want to see one on the full screen you just click right here," he says pointing at the computer. "If you want to look through old footage-Someone's at the door," he realizes looking at the screen.

"Oh, that's Sarah," Jordan jumps up, striding out of the room and toward the back door. "Her key won't work in the new lock."

In the hall, Eliot and Hardison can hear the old door being wrenched open. Jordan starts to explain the new locks, but cuts off abruptly. "Oh my god! Are you alright?" The fear in her voice brings the two men out into the corridor in concern. Jordan is trying to calm the girl down but with very little success.

"I just went to pick up some stuff. I didn't think he'd be home," Sarah is saying hysterically. "He said I might as well leave it because I'd be back soon."

"No, you won't." Jordan affirms. "You're staying here until we find an apartment for you."

"He said he's going to shut you down just so I won't have anywhere else to go," she sobs breathlessly, unaware of the two men standing awkwardly in the corner.

"He can't do that," she replies evenly.

"He showed me the papers. He bought out your mortgage."

"But that-Oh my god," Jordan says, fear creeping into her voice again. I think I just realized what was stolen." She gently guides Sarah into a chair and goes back into her office with Eliot and Hardison following after her.

"What is it?" Eliot asks as she frantically searches the room. She shuffles through three drawers and two piles of papers before finally giving up.

"The extension agreement. It's gone." Jordan slouches over the desk dejectedly. "I owe almost twenty thousand dollars and it's due on the first of the year. The bank granted an eighteen month extension, but now that Evan James is involved…" she trails off, dropping her face in her hands.

"You're going to have to tell Nate," Hardison whispers, already looking up the mystery man.

"Tell Nate what?"

"We got ourselves a job."


	20. Mistletoe

By the time Eliot and Hardison return the cabin is dark except for the Christmas tree and the glowing embers in the fireplace. Nate and Sophie have disappeared to their rooms, but Parker is curled up asleep on the couch.

"Let me do the talking tomorrow," Eliot reminds Hardison. "Don't try to help me."

"You should let Jordan do the talking," he disagrees. "She should bring that little girl. No way Nate could say no to them."

"We are not exploiting a seven year old!"

"But she's got the big eyes and the cast," Hardison reasons. "Nate'll be jelly."

"I have a plan. Just keep quiet and let me handle it," Eliot says, rubbing his eyes.

"I think we should have a signal in case you want me to turn on the snowman again."

Eliot doesn't reply, but expels a deep breath through gritted teeth. He gives a weary good night as he ascends the stairs. In his absence, Hardison moves to Parkers still form.

'She sleeps like she's never had a bad dream,' he muses, taking a seat on the remaining third of the couch she is occupying. As he watches her in the fire's dying light, he starts to plan out exactly how he should propose.

Sophie told him not to put the ring in food and above all he should speak from the heart. Nate had already warned him that any speech he planned would be forgotten instantly. And, after his talk with Eliot, he decided that a grand public proposal was out of the question. No telling how his little wildcard would respond.

'It has to be unique to Parker,' he brainstorms. He considers a rooftop outing, but soon scraps the idea because all of the buildings in this rinky-dink little town are two stories or less. The idea occurs to him to put it in a safe and have her crack it. He wonders if she'll be disappointed to find just one little ring in a big safe and no money. Seeing her disappointment wasn't really something his self esteem could handle.

"How long have you been there?" Parker asks groggily. She rolls onto her back and stretches her legs across Hardison's lap.

"Not long," He replies. Not long enough to finish his plan. "I was wrong about the Charlie Brown tree. It looks good."

"I know," she says proudly. "You were right about the angel, though. It almost tipped over when I put her on top."

"It looks pretty stable now…"

"The angel isn't technically _on_ the tree," Parker explains. "She's suspended by fishing line from the rafters."

"You MacGuyvered Christmas?" Hardison laughs. "I'm glad you're the wildcard," he says leaning closer to her.

"I'm glad you're a steady paycheck."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" He asks, pulling back in confusion.

"Sophie says that some loves are like lotteries," She says matter-of-factly. "You get a lump sum and when it's gone, it's gone."

"Not us?"

"Nope. We're like working for a paycheck. There's always more on the way."

"I like that."

"Me too."

"You tired?" Hardison asks. She murmurs an affirmative, but doesn't attempt to get up. "Come on, let's go to bed."

"No, I can't move," she protests as he tries to heave both of them off the couch. "I'm too tired," she whines, pulling him back down with her.

"You need a bed," he insists. "We've got to get to work tomorrow. I need you well rested."

"We have a job?" Parker says perking up slightly.

Hardison nods but refuses to divulge the details. "You'll get the rundown tomorrow just like everybody else. I can't be giving you special treatment. It's downright unprofessional."

"Please," she begs, but he holds steady. "Just a summary and then we can go to bed."

"Fine," he concedes. "Richie Rich likes to slap his girl around, so she ran to Jordan's shelter and now he's buying the place out from under her just so this girl will come crawling back to him."

"So what do you think we'll do?"

"I don't know. Maybe the Kansas City Shuffle or…the Fisherman's Noose." He snaps his fingers theatrically. "I got it! The Venetian Flush."

"Do you know what any of those are?" Parker asks skeptically.

"Nah, I just made 'em up," he admits. "They sound good though, don't they?"

"The Venetian Flush definitely has potential."

"Let's go. Bed. We had a deal," Hardison demands. This time when he moves to stand, she lets him, then takes the hand he offers.

"Sophie thinks we'll be together for ten years," Parker informs him abruptly.

"Just ten years?" he replies casually, suppressing a grin. She beams as they make their way through the dark house.

"Wait!" Parker whispers frantically. She stops, rooted firmly to the spot and tugs Hardison back to face her.

"What is it?" he asks in concern.

"Mistletoe." She looks up at the little bundle dangling from the timber rafters above their heads. Hardison pulls Parker close and happily complies with the tradition.

* * *

Just a little bit of fluff to tide you over. much more to come.


	21. Sold!

The next morning, Nate is the first to rise. When Jordan and Sarah come knocking on the door, he is the one who answers it. Just as Eliot planned…

"You must be Nate," Jordan says brushing past him. She introduces herself and Sarah on the way to the kitchen. "Eliot wouldn't let us pay him for all his help and our Minnesotan sensibilities just wouldn't stand for it," she explains. Without invitation they start unpacking their grocery bags. "So we brought breakfast." Jordan arranges the assortment of bagels, pastries, and fresh fruit while Sarah starts brewing coffee.

"Thank you," Nate says dumbly. He's still a little asleep, continually trying to get his hair under control. "I'll go get Eliot-"

"No, that's alright. We have to run, lots to do today," Jordan interjects. "We have to be out of our place in a week, so we have to start packing."

"Oh, you're moving?" Nate asks conversationally.

"Being evicted, actually," she says plainly. "Yep, me and Sarah and the eleven other abuse victims staying at my shelter…"

"Twelve, if you count little Kasey," Sarah pipes in for the first time. "She's only seven. Still believes in Santa Claus," she adds.

"Who would shut down a women's shelter at Christmastime?" Nate finally starts to catch on.

"My boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," Jordan corrects her. "Well, it was nice to meet you. Enjoy the breakfast," she says breezily.

"Thank you," he says again as they make their exit.

"You know your getting hustled, right?" Sophie asks, having heard most of the conversation. He nods, still trying to work out their angle. "And, then you thanked them," she says, pouring a cup of coffee and selecting a croissant.

"They're good."

"Uh-huh. They kept it simple, didn't push," she notes. "Made you think it's your idea."

"What's my idea?"

"To help them, of course."

"They just seem _so_ nice," Nate marvels. "How can we not help them?"

"And, they know their way around a croissant," Sophie adds after taking a bite.

"Hey, who got breakfast?" Parker asks, seeming much too bubbly for the early hour.

"Our new client," Sophie supplies.

"Jordan was here?" When she's through pouring a glass of orange juice she notices the look Nate is giving her. "Um, I mean…What new client? I thought we weren't doing any jobs over the holidays." She then shoves a handful of grapes into her mouth before she can say anything else.

Eliot soon walks in, with Hardsion close behind, and pretends not to see Nate's inquisitive stare. When he asks where the breakfast spread came from it's Sophie who answers him.

"Some friends of yours dropped it off," she says coolly. "Jordan and Sarah, I believe."

"Wow, that was really nice of them," Eliot replies.

"Did they by any chance have Kasey with them?" Hardison butts in. "Seven years old, cute as a button." Both Eliot and Nate roll their eyes at the obvious play. "She made fun of Eliot's hair _and_ let me sign her cast," he says aside to Parker.

"I can't believe they did this," Eliot continues without acknowledging his friend's input. "I mean, by all accounts, they'll be homeless in a week, but they still took the time to show their gratitude."

"I'm sure they won't be homeless," Sophie interjects. "Most of those women can just go back to their abusers."

"See? It all works out," Parker quips. "Christmas truly is a time for miracles."

"Well, since I don't have anything _better_ to do, I thought I'd go fishing," Eliot announces.

"How do you fish if the lake is frozen?" Parker wonders.

"It's not frozen solid. You drill a hole in the ice with an auger and drop the line in," he explains.

"That sounds even more boring than regular fishing," Hardison comments. "And, really cold."

"Parker and I were going to watch Miracle on 34th Street," Sophie says to Nate. "You could join us if you don't want to fish."

"They're going to show it in black and white, then in color, then in black and white again, then in color," Parker rambles excitedly. "All day."

"Unless there's something else you'd rather do…" Hardison says giving him a sideways look. Four sets of eyes fall on Nate expectantly. Collectively, they look like a little kid who brought home a puppy and are asking to keep it.

"I've created monsters," Nate mutters.

"What does that mean?" Parker asks.

"It means enough with the charades. Hardison, run it."

"I thought you'd never ask." With a grin, the hacker clicks a small remote, bringing up a picture on Eliot's flat screen. "Meet Evan James."

"Two first names, that's never good," Parker remarks, scrunching her nose at the image of a good-looking man, around twenty-five years old, with blonde hair and a cocky smile.

"What's his story?" Sophie inquires.

"Well, he's been getting into trouble since grade school, a real hot head, and when his parents died he became the world's richest juvenile delinquent," Hardison starts out. "His latest crime is pushing around his girlfriend, Sarah Perkett." He then pulls up a picture of the girl Nate had seen with that morning. Except the face on the screen wasn't smiling, likely due to the split lip and heavy bruising.

"Why isn't he in prison?" Parker winces.

"His best friend is a local cop and his uncle is the D.A.," Eliot says in disgust.

"Plus, his folks were good people, pillars of the community," Hardison adds. "He plays the pity card and his family's lawyer pulls strings and calls in favors so he gets a slap on the wrists."

"He's the mark. Who's the client?" Nate asks.

"The Dublin Street Women's Shelter," Hardison states.

"And, the lovely Jordan," Sophie says with a wink.

"They took Sarah in when she left him," Eliot says, brushing her off.

"It's not actually on Dublin Street," Hardison continues. "It's an affiliate of an organization call Underground Hope. It's a network of shelters across the country; they all go by dummy street names."

"So, how is Evan James going to shut them down?"

"They took out a loan a few years ago for repairs and updates and it's not exactly a profitable enterprise, so…"

"He bought out their mortgage," Nate concludes with inevitability.

"They had an extension, but all the records and copies have been lost, stolen or destroyed," Eliot informs.

"It's all due on the first of the year," Hardison finishes.

"Why don't we just pay it?" Parker suggests. "We have the money. Might as well."

"It's not going to stop him," Eliot argues.

"_That _and Jordan said she couldn't accept it," Hardison says with a shrug. "In no uncertain terms."

"He thinks he owns this girl and Jordan's shelter took her away," Eliot reasons. "He won't give up that easily."

"So how do we take this creep down," Parker asks, turning to Nate.

"What do we really know about him?"

"He violent," Sophie supplies. "Quite a temper."

"He's rich," Parker acknowledges.

"But, not as rich as he wanted to be," Hardison jumps in. "When his parents died, half the estate went to the formation of a scholarship fund. He was not happy about that."

"And, according to Sarah, he thinks he should be famous," Eliot mentions.

"I almost forgot! Which one do you want to watch first?" Hardison exclaims. "Real world? The Bachelor? American Idol?" When the team looks at him in confusion he clarifies. "Audition tapes. He's tried out for every reality show on the planet."

"Ooh, American Idol," Sophie decides. "I want to hear him sing."

"It's not pretty," Hardison warns. "It's like if Eliot had bronchitis and was singing into a nasty ol' boot."

"Uh, let's save that for later," Nate interrupts. "We've got to get to work." They all look to him in anticipation. "Parker, Hardison, start planting bugs and cameras. We need eyes and ears on Evan James at all times." The two nod and go to gather supplies. "Eliot, I want you stationed at the shelter. We need him to do something stupid, so you have to make sure no one gets hurt." Last he turns to Sophie, "You're going to coach Jordan. She's to tell him that her lawyer has a copy of the extension agreement and she can't be nice about it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to buy a really ugly suit," he replies with smirk. Apparently, he forgot to pack Jimmy Papadopolis.

* * *

sorry this took so long. more to come soon. very soon.


	22. The Polish Bulldozer

The plan was called 'The Polish Bulldozer.' Compared with some of their other scams, it was a cinch. Parker and Hardison had planted bugs, lots of them, everywhere. His house, his car, his phone; even his favorite bar was tapped.

With Sophie's advice, Jordan made the call. She informed Evan of the one surviving copy of the extension on her mortgage, got him good and riled up, and told him to direct all other inquiries to her lawyer. Enter Jimmy Papadopolis.

Then all they had to do was wait. That was the beauty of 'The Polish Bulldozer.' Everything that Evan James says or does that he thinks will solve his problems actually digs his grave. Before the sun went down on December 23rd they had what they needed. Their recordings would be enough to change the public's opinion of him and prove that he was the one who broke in.

They also caught his various plans to shut down the shelter and numerous threats against its occupants. Since Underground Hope is a national organization, the issue falls under the FBI's jurisdiction. Evan's connections and money couldn't get him out of that.

Nate had planned for Parker to contact Agent McSweetin, despite Hardison's grumblings, to get the ball rolling. Simple, the only problem is that he will be out of the office until the 26th.

"Can't we just tip off any old Fed?" Hardison suggests. He looks around the shelter's small office for an ally, but everyone seems to be with the mastermind on this one.

"This case isn't exactly a career-maker," Nate says regretfully. "We need someone to run with it right away and the only way we can be sure is if-"

"We pimp out Parker," Hardison finishes with a scowl.

"We're not pimping out Parker," Eliot interjects. "We're pimping out Agent Hagan."

"She's going to make a phone call and maybe bat her eyelashes a little bit. Nobody is …_pimping_," Nate says, feeling uncomfortable using the word. "This will still work. No matter what, we have him in two days."

"We just have to keep the girls safe until then," Eliot reminds him.

"Maybe we can get him to bribe you," Sophie nods toward Nate with a glint in her eyes. "We could get a little extra cash for them. I'm sure they could use it."

"We'll see, but I don't want to push it," he replies, holding up a hand to stop her overzealous scheming.

"So, we're done…?" Hardison says tentatively.

"Except for a few phone calls that Parker has to make…" Eliot says smugly. He knows how much Agent McSweetin tends to irk the hacker.

"And, you'll have to hang out with Jordan some more," Hardison retorts, mimicking the tone. Then he continues in a lower voice, "Just remember to take your comm. out next time. We don't need to be hearing all the-"

"Damn it, Hardison!"

"Stop it, boys," Sophie says good naturedly. "But, seriously," she murmurs to Eliot, "Jordan is a classy girl. She deserves her privacy." He starts to growl a response, but Jordan's entrance silences him.

"So, are we out of the woods yet?" she asks hopefully.

"Not quite," Nate informs her. "We can't tip off the Feds until the 26th."

"I'm afraid you'll have to put up with Eliot for a few more days," Sophie says, feigning remorse.

"That's alright. I think Kasey is really warming up to him."

"She kicked me in the shins yesterday!"

"Yeah, that's how she warms up," Jordan shrugs.

"Calm down, man," Hardison chimes in. "I'm sure she'll come around."

"Easy for you to say," Eliot gripes. "You're not the one getting kicked."

"The girl's a good judge of character," he quips back. "Plus, I don't have girl hair."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Jordan exclaims. "Tomorrow, we're going to make Christmas cookies all day. Then in the evening, we go caroling and take donations in exchange for them."

"That sounds fun," Sophie gushes.

"Yeah, we always have a pretty good time," she agrees. "It's usually an all girl event, but everybody's welcome."

"Parker and I can- wait. Where is Parker?" Sophie asks in surprise.

Everyone scans the small room, shocked not to find her there.

"Was Parker here when you walked in?" Hardison asks Jordan.

"I don't think so," she replies but her tone oozes of uncertainty. He then disappears into the hall to search for his soon-to-be fiancé.

"Anyway, Parker and I-"

"And, Parker's taser," Nate adds.

"-can make cookies and hold down the fort," Sophie continues. "You guys can finally do some fishing."

"I can't wait to tell Hardison," Eliot says with a broad smile.

* * *

After a quick search of the main level, Hardison decides to check the backyard. There he finds not only Parker, but also Kasey, tramping around in the snow.

"Alec!" The little blonde girl is the first to spot him. The bell in the puff on her hat jingles as she runs over and grabs his hand. "Come look at our snowman!" she exclaims, tugging him over to it.

"Nice to meet you, Frosty," he says, gently shaking one of the stick hands. "I think he might be the best snowman on this whole street."

"Is it good enough to show your mom yet?" Parker asks Kasey. The girl looks at their creation with serious consideration.

"I think it needs one more thing," Hardison says. He takes the bright blue scarf from around his own neck and arranges it on the snowman. "There, now it's perfect." The girl nods in a approval as a Cheshire grin spreads across her face.

"I'm going to go get my mom!" She high-fives Parker before bounding to the door.

"She's such a good kid," Parker comments, smoothing out few snowy lumps.

"Yeah, she kind of reminds me of somebody."

"Who?" she asks distractedly.

"You," he says as if it should be obvious.

"What? She doesn't look anything like me," Parker blurts out. "Sure, she's blonde, but I'm like two feet taller than her."

Before Hardison can explain his meaning, Kasey returns with her mom in tow.

"Did you thank Parker and Alec for helping you?" she questions after delivering a rave evaluation.

"Alec didn't really help. He just donated a scarf," Kasey points out.

"And, did you thank him for that?"

"Thank you, Alec. Thank you, Parker," she says sweetly.

"You're welcome," they both reply just as Nate and Sophie are walking out to join them.

"Are you going to help us with the cookies tomorrow?"

"Parker and Sophie are," Nate says in the tone he always seems to take on when speaking to children. "We're going fishing with Eliot," he adds, slapping Hardison's shoulder.

"Great…"

The group says their goodbyes and heads for the car. With Eliot staying behind to keep watch, Nate slides into the driver's seat. He and Sophie chat easily the whole way home, mainly about how ridiculously early the sun goes down.

"I know the days are shorter in the winter, but I guess, I don't notice it as much in the city," Sophie muses.

"Can we stay up till midnight?" Parker is whispering in the backseat.

"Uh, sure. What happens at midnight?" Hardison responds in curiosity.

"At midnight, it's officially Christmas Eve, which means I can blast all the Christmas songs I want."

"Whatever you say." When she leans into him, he kisses the top of her head. "Why is your hair all wet?" he wonders almost laughing.

"We made snow angels. If you don't push your head into the snow to make an imprint, they look headless," she explains, laying her head on his shoulder. "That's just creepy."

Despite the wet hair chilling the skin on his neck, Hardison is perfectly content. He takes a deep breath, realizing that the time as come. The job is basically over, so what's stopping him? He's not sure he'll ever be _ready_, but he is as prepared as he can be. All the dominoes are in place, he just has to knock that first one over. Then there's no turning back…


	23. Burning, Love, and Burning Love

"Sophie, is your phone ringing?" Hardison asks when they walk into the cabin.

"I don't think so," she says, reaching into her coat pocket to check. "Nope."

"I could have sworn I heard a _ring_," he says a bit more pointedly this time. "Must be the radio or something."

"I didn't hear anything," Parker says obliviously.

"I have to finish wrapping presents. Parker, will you help me?" Sophie gets his signal and effortlessly invents a ploy to distract her. "I need you to do the bows for me. Mine always turn out wonky."

"Sure. No problem."

Hardison waits until both ladies are out of sight before frantically sprinting in the opposite direction.

"Do you need any help?" Nate asks, finally catching up with him in the kitchen.

"No-yes…uh…I don't think so," Hardison stammers. "Just sleep in tomorrow," he says, pulling himself together.

"That doesn't look like a ring box," Nate points out, nodding toward the item in the younger man's hands.

"It's the last domino," he clarifies. "Or, the first domino…I can't do metaphors right now!" He puts the item in place then surveys the room for anything that might give him away. "Remember to sleep in. Tell Sophie, too!"

With that he takes off again, leaving a very curious Nate in his wake.

* * *

The next morning, Hardison's hands are shaking as he queues up a Christmas mix on his ipod. When Eartha Kitt comes purring out of the speakers he takes a breath and turns toward Parker.

Unaware of his agenda or the nervousness it's causing him, she moves around the kitchen humming along. She's too excited that it's finally Christmas Eve to be bothered by anything else.

"What happened to all the other cereal?" Parker asks, holding up the one and only box in the pantry. It appears to be a generic brand of fruit loops boasting of a toy surprise.

"They expired yesterday," Hardison says, trying to keep his voice even. "Nate threw them out."

"That's weird. We just bought those." She doesn't get hung up on this oddity, but puts the box on the counter. "Do you want some too?"

"Sure." Hardison wipes his sweating palms on his pants when she turns to grab two bowls out of the cupboard. He has the strong urge to take the box and run, but fights it. Instead, he takes the milk from the fridge and two spoons from the drawer and heads toward the table.

In a routine that has been well practiced at their apartment, she pours the cereal and he, the milk. Hardison pretends to be surprised when an object concealed by shiny green plastic plops into the second bowl.

"What's that?" he asks, starting to reach for it.

"My toy surprise!" Parker says, snatching it up. "Hands off!"

It looks professionally packaged, just like every other cheap toy in every other cereal box. She still has no idea that this one is special. She settles in and takes a huge bite before tearing the package open.

"I can't believe Nate's not up yet," she comments idly.

"The music probably scared him away," Hardison replies quickly, having more and more trouble sounding calm. He holds his breath as the contents spill onto the table. There is a long moment of silence as 'Santa Baby' ends and Bing Crosby starts singing about how 'the more you give and Christmastime the more you get.'

Parker picks up the hard plastic cylinder to inspect it more closely. It's larger than a film canister, but smaller than a soda can, and when shaken _something_ can be heard clattering around inside. The outside, except for the top and bottom, is covered with tiny sliding tiles. Whatever picture it is supposed to be depicting is too jumbled to recognize, but is seems to have a Christmas theme.

Hardison cringes while Parker tries every which way to pry it open. Realizing it impossible, she grabs the directions that fell out when the package was ripped. She takes another bite of cereal, skimming over the small print. She finds out that before she can collect her mystery prize, she'll have to unscramble the puzzle. No other way to unlock the cylinder.

On the other side of the directions is a black and white image of what the puzzle should look like. It's Santa Claus tip-toeing past a Christmas tree toward the fireplace as a little girl peeks around the corner.

Parker sets to the task with the same determination she puts toward any other lock or safe. For a moment, Hardison forgets what is at stake and enjoys watching her work. His memory lapse is short lived. After five minutes he's climbing the walls. Again.

He had planned it all. The cereal box, the sliding puzzle, even a speech. (Which, as Nate predicted, he could not remember.) He estimated she would take twenty to thirty minutes to solve it and his mind had played through almost every possible outcome.

What he did not think of was what he would be doing during that time. So far, he was sweating and reminding himself to breathe. He takes an occasional bite for show, not trusting himself to speak. Even if he could come up with something casual to say, there was no telling at what pitch his voice would come out. Most likely a pubescent squeak.

At minute twenty seven,(yes, he's been counting) she slides the very last tile into place. There is a faint click and this time when she pulls, the lid opens easily.

"Ooooh," Parker says dropping the ring into her palm. "Hey, look at my-…huh." She stops abruptly, changing her tone and examining her prize more closely. "I think this is real," she mumbles in shock and confusion.

"It is. I'm sure of it."

"How do you know?" she asks slowly with furrowed brows. Hardison swallows hard and meets her quizzical stare. He doesn't speak right away. Instead, he purposefully pushes himself out of his chair and kneels before Parker, their eyes locked all the while.

"I put it there."

Her mouth starts to move, but no sound comes out.

"It's uh…a blue diamond," Hardison begins to ramble nervously, "Like the Hope Diamond, -but smaller…and not cursed." Not one syllable of his heartfelt, chick-flick worthy proposal is coming back to him. "I had it custom made. At the bottom of the band is your favorite knot and the-"

"Why did you have ring made for me?"

"Because I want you to marry me, Parker," he replies hopefully. "And, you deserve a ring that's worthy of you."

"You want to marry me?" Parker whispers in disbelief. He nods with a hesitant smile. "But you could have somebody better, somebody normal."

"I don't want somebody normal and there's no one better."

"There's probably lots of girls that wouldn't mess up your card tricks," she says, making Hardison glad that he didn't propose on a jumbotron or hire a mariachi band. "I bet there are girls whose feet aren't always freezing when they get into bed…girls who wouldn't steal your wallet…or sneak up on-"

"Parker!" he interrupts then continues less harshly. "I'm sure those girls exist, but I don't want them. I love _you_." He pauses to take a steadying breath. "All those stupid clichés that Sophie goes on about: kismet and soul mates,... a pearl among oysters…" Sophie scoffs from her hiding place on the stairs, but a warning look from Nate reminds her to keep quiet. "You're it. You're the one for me, Parker. The only one…You always will be. I don't care if you pick my pocket everyday for a hundred years."

"We'll be dead by then."

"So, I'll be an easy mark!" Hardison breaks into a smile, but continues more seriously. "I want to be the one thing you can always count on. The thing you know for sure will be there, on your side, no matter what. You deserve that."

For emphasis, he gently takes her hand, the one that isn't holding the ring, and brings her palm to his heart. "I want to be that for you, if you'll let me…Will you marry me?" He has run out of words, and now must wait.

Parker bites her lip as the seconds stretch out between them. She wants to run.

It's almost a knee jerk reaction. Anytime she has been scared or confused, flight was always her first choice. The pounding of his heart and the raw honesty in his eyes stop her. She knows that if that look was on her face, Hardison would never walk away. She owes him the same courtesy.

It isn't that she wants to say no or break up. She wants to say yes. She's wanted to say yes from the very first moment she realized what he was asking. Unfortunately, that fact terrifies her. Hence the urge to bolt.

Hardison desperately wishes he could read her mind. He can't decide if she looks unsure or confused, but both options concern him. Just when he thinks his heart is going to explode, Parker swallows hard and shakes herself out of her racing thoughts.

"So, it goes on my left hand?" she asks casually, catching him completely off guard.

"Only if it's a yes," he says once he has recovered. "If it's a no, it goes to the bottom of the lake."

"But the lake is frozen."

"I'll have to use Eliot's giant ice drill thingy…"

"No, you won't," Parker says coyly.

"No?"

"Nope."

"Does that mean-"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Yes!" Hardison shouts, rocketing up and pulling Parker with him. He pauses long enough for her to slip the ring on the appointed finger then picks her up and starts jumping around. She starts to cry and laugh simultaneously which makes their kiss very sloppy and a little salty. Hardison finally places her back on her feet and carefully wipes the tears off her cheeks.

"Are you sure?" he asks, still cupping her face in his hands.

"I'm so sure, it scares the hell out of me."

"Me, too."

"That was the sweetest thing I've ever seen!" Sophie blurts out, unable to contain herself any longer. She quickly swipes at her eyes and rushes over to them, hugs and kisses all around.

"I missed the beginning, but the end wasn't bad," Eliot comments. "I give it a seven."

"It was iffy at the start," Nate says, his hand wavering back and worth. "But, he turned it around."

"Like a champ," Hardison gloats. Eliot ignores his arrogance and envelopes Parker in a warm hug.

"You sure you want to settle for this guy?" he jokes.

"Absolutely!"

* * *

"Are you sure it's real?" Kasey asks Parker skeptically.

"Trust me. I know diamonds." The two are frosting cookies in the dining room because the kitchen is overflowing with people.

"It doesn't look real. It's _blue_."

"It's a blue diamond," Parker explains. "They're rare."

"Are there pink diamonds?"

"Yeah, they're rare, too."

"Well, when I get married I want a pink diamond," Kasey announces.

"I have a pink diamond, but it's a necklace, not a ring."

"Did Alec give you that one too?" she asks with wide eyes.

"No, I stole-"

"Bought!" Sophie interrupts, having walked in just in time. "She worked really hard and bought it for herself." She gives Parker a look as she transfers more cookies from the sheet in her hand to the cooling rack on the table.

"Yep, I bought it to reward myself for…remembering to floss everyday," she fumbles with the lie.

"I hate flossing," Kasey groans and goes back to frosting.

Sophie starts whispering to Parker that she better not be putting any other bad ideas into the little girl's head, but the thief isn't listening. She stands and walks to the kitchen doorway. After leaning her head into the room for a moment, she turns back to Sophie with an odd look.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you smell something burning?"

* * *

"This is the day of my engagement, and instead of letting me spend some quality time with my lady, I'm freezing my butt off with you guys."

"I've been stuck in a houseful of women all week," Eliot reminds him. "And, it's not that cold."

"If it's cold enough for a pickup truck to drive on water, it's too cold," Hardison grumbles through the scarf bundled around his face.

"It's not so bad," Nate shrugs taking a swig from his flask.

"I hope you know I'm not going to touch a dead fish," he stipulates sternly.

"They're still alive when you take the hook out," Eliot says, enjoying Hardison's disgust. "Oh yeah, they flop around a lot longer than you'd expect."

"That is nasty."

"But it _will be _delicious," Nate points out.

"I've got a great recipe for this lemon buerre blanc," Eliot brags. "Hardison, I think you have a bite." The hacker isn't paying attention, he's consumed with something on his phone. "I'm going to throw that thing in the lake if you don't put it away!"

"I have a trip set up in the county dispatchers office," he explains. "I get a warning if anything goes down with Evan James or the shelter."

"What's going on?" Nate asks in concern.

"We gotta go."

"What's happening at the shelter?" Eliot demands.

"I don't know, but the Fire Department is on the way."

* * *

the job is far from over. more on the way. i had a really hard time deciding how the proposal should go down, but i hope you all liked it.


	24. any other name

an: Don't worry, Jedi Steelwolf. The name thing has always been in the works, that's why I kept mentioning it.

* * *

The Dublin Street Women's Shelter is located in a good neighborhood on the North side of town. At the turn of the twentieth century it stood alone on a dead end road, but as the years went by house after house cropped up around it. Because it was so much larger than any of the other homes on the street, it always looked like a hulking mother hen watching over her little chicks.

Tonight, the normally quiet street is erupting in chaos. The twinkling lights that adorn every house are outshined by the ones flashing from various emergency vehicles on the scene. When Eliot drives up he has to park two blocks away, but they can already see the flames.

The silence on the ride there had been awful. All three men were running through their worst case scenarios, but praying it was all a mistake. They hoped the girls had just burnt the cookies and set off the fire alarm.

That hope is quickly dissolving.

Hardison is out first, quickly weaving between curious neighbors and police barricades. Eliot hasn't seen him run like that since the day Parker fell into Boston Harbor. Remembering how easily he jumped into the frigid water, both men take off after him, prepared to stop him from sprinting headlong into a burning house.

"Alec."

He hears his name as he tries to fight past two firefighters. He is certain that any other voice would have been drowned in all the commotion, except hers.

"Are you alright?" he asks, rushing over to Parker. She stands off to the side with the other women from the shelter. A few are still being looked at by the paramedics but most are huddled in groups of two and three sharing blankets.

"I'm fine," she declares calmly, as he frantically checks her for injuries. "Just a little smokey." He pulls her into a tight embrace, thanking every god he can think of. When he feels her shiver, Hardison opens his coat and envelops her.

For one moment, Parker smells him instead of smoke. She hears his heartbeat instead of sirens. And, she feels his warmth instead of the cold night air.

"Is she ok?" Nate asks, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah, nothing major," Sophie answers, since neither Parker nor Hardison seemed to hear him, and she gratefully accepts the jacket that Nate slips over her shoulders.

"Was anyone else hurt?" Eliot asks.

"Jordan burned her hand on a door knob," she replies. "But, it's not too bad and one girl has asthma so they took her to the hospital as a precaution."

Eliot disappears without an explanation and they all know who he's looking for.

"Are _you_ ok?" Nate wonders, scrutinizing Sophie.

"Mild smoke inhalation," she says trying to be casual. "Just like Parker and everybody else."

"Do you know what happened?"

"One minute we were all having a good time, then Parker thought she smelled smoke, then…" she trails off, waving a hand toward the blaze. "I didn't happen to see Evan James dousing the place in petrol if that's what you're asking."

"So you don't think it was him?" Nate says in surprise.

"No, he did it. I just didn't see him." She mentally kicks herself for letting her guard down. "We have to get this guy, Nate."

"We have him."

"It's not enough."

"I know."

While Nate and Sophie discuss an addition to the plan, Eliot finds who he is looking for. She is leaning against an ambulance with her back to all the turmoil.

"Jordan," he says carefully, not wanting to startle her. She straightens up and wipes her eyes before turning toward him. "What are you doing?" Eliot asks, moving closer.

"This way is easier." She points to the van's rearview mirror and the fire reflected in it. "It seems smaller." He wants to hug her, but he's afraid that she would only push him away.

"I'm so sorry," is all he can manage.

"Did you light my house on fire?" She asks sharply. "No? Then don't apologize."

"You're freezing. Here, take this," he insists, pulling his coat around her.

"Every picture I had of my mom was in that house," Jordan states distantly.

"We're going to fix this," Eliot promises solemnly.

"'Cause that's what you do, right?" Her smile is a ghost of itself, but the spark in her voice seems to be returning.

"Right."

* * *

"Hardison?…Alec?"

"Huh?"

"You can let go now," Parker says gently, voice muffled into his chest.

"Nope, ah-uh, not letting go," he maintains, wrapping his arms around her a bit tighter.

"I'm fine!" she persists, craning her head to peer up at him.

"And, you're going to stay that way."

"Alec, we can't live inside your jacket forever," she laughs.

"How do you know? Give it a week, maybe you'll love it."

"What's wrong with Parker?" Eliot asks when he and Jordan walk over.

"He won't let me out!" she protests, while all they can see is her legs and a shock of blonde hair.

"Damn it, Hardison!" Eliot slaps his friend upside the head to make his point. "She's fine!"

"Ok, ok," he relents. "But, I'm staying close." He finally releases his fiancé and following the example set by Nate and Eliot, he shrugs off his coat and offers it to her.

"I can take care of myself, you know," she replies a little indignantly, pulling it on. "Do I need to remind you what happened the last time we brawled?" She grins smugly at the warning look Hardison shoots her.

"What happened?" Jordan asks, unable to contain her curiosity.

"He tapped out in two minutes," Eliot supplies.

"More like ninety seconds," Sophie corrects. It is nice to return to the established territory of their familial banter and she has to laugh at the sight of them. Three women in oversized coats and three men pretending not to be cold. It's a good thing the boys layered up for ice fishing.

"First things, first," Nate announces. "Sophie: accommodations," he says simply. She nods and links an arm with Jordan, leading her toward the group of concerned looking neighbors. "Sarah will be staying with us tonight, along with any of the girls Sophie can't find a bed for."

"What's the plan?" Eliot asks.

"We're going to save Christmas."

"Are we forgetting about the Grinch?" Hardison inquires with a firmly set jaw.

"Oh, I'll think of something…" Nate muses with a twinkle in his eye. "You two," he motions to Parker and Hardison, "Get Sarah and anyone else left over back to the cabin and make them comfortable. Eliot, we're going shopping."

Eliot grumbles futilely and trails Nate when he heads for the car.

"She _does_ remind me of someone," Parker says out of the blue.

"Huh? Who?" Hardison mutters in confusion. Following her gaze gives him the answer. She's watching an exchange between Kasey and her mother.

"Kasey. You said she reminded you of me, but she makes me think of somebody else."

Even from a distance, they can see the girl has been crying, but now she stands like a soldier at attention. Her mom is trying to wrap a blanket around her but she keeps shaking it off.

"Who?"

The older woman is now kneeling in front of her daughter, attempting to comfort her. Kasey twists out of the soothing embrace and stalks away. Her mother expels a shuddering sigh and strides after her.

Nobody…Just a girl I used to know," Parker replies, her eyes still fixed where the seven year old once stood. "Rebecca Lewis." She turns back to gauge the impact of the seemingly innocuous comment.

Hardison's eyes narrow and his head tips slightly to the right. His expression asks the question that his half open mouth can't seem to form.

Her faint smile answers it.

"We should probably go help Sophie," Parker says to change the subject. "Not that she needs it," she adds, starting to walk away.

"Wait," he says softly. He catches her hand before she can escape and forces her to face him. "I love you. All of you…even the part that's still Rebecca Lewis."

"I love you, too."

"Thank you."

"Do I look like a 'Becky'?"

Hardison thinks for a long moment. This is delicate terrain, he doesn't want to misstep. He had seen glimpses of what he assumed was her former self, but never had a name to go with it. He still isn't sure if Parker will think that it's good or bad.

"Maybe in another lifetime," he says cautiously. The sentiment seems to comfort her and she squeezes his hand. "You'll always be Parker to me, but the label doesn't matter. Hell, you can change your name once a month like Diddy if you want to."

"Who's Diddy?"

"…Puffy…Puff Daddy…Never mind." He pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. "Come on, you heard the man. We have to save Christmas."

He keeps turning the name over in his mind, repeating it to get used to the sound. He imagines what it would be like if she had just stayed 'Rebecca'. Would they have met? Would they have fallen in love? Would they be in engaged?

She will always be Parker, just Parker. Rebecca is a part of her and always will be, but it is a part she keeps hidden away. Locked up tight in one of the dark corners of her mind. Hardison admits to himself that it might not be the most normal thing in the world, it doesn't bother him.

She let him in. All the way. No more deep, dark secrets between them. It is just a name, but little do they know, it will be the key to so much more.


	25. Christmas Interlude

My tremendous apologies to all of the readers. My computer died, (R.I.P) so I haven't been able to post. I have a replacement now, and I intend to make it up to all of you. To everyone still reading, thank you so much for bearing with me. I will do my very best to make it worth your time.

* * *

The dawn breaks clear and bright. Aside from the biting cold, it is a perfect Christmas morning. It is hard to believe that the night before was filled with smoke and tears and uncertainty. Now, the house that only a week ago seemed abandoned is bursting with life. There is a light in nearly every window and Christmas carols are emanating through the walls.

Sophie is shoving a few more mismatched chairs around the table while some other women arrange the place settings. Eliot is managing the kitchen, dashing between the turkey, ham, and yes, a goose too. The ladies try, somewhat unsuccessfully, to stay out of his way as they prepare the side dishes. Parker can be heard jingling by the fireplace. The bells on her reindeer antlers tinkle as she and Kasey finish jamming the last stocking on the already packed mantle. She continues to sing and dance to the music when they move on to the popcorn garland.

"How does it look?" she asks Nate who is pacing and plotting. He has to give the tree a wide berth because of all the presents heaped at the base. In addition to the ones hastily wrapped last night, there are quite a few packages, charred and water logged, that were recovered from the wreckage this morning.

"Hmm? Oh, it looks great!" he replies with a thumbs up to Parker and the little girl. "Like Christmas on steroids…" he adds under his breath. "Hardison, have you got those backgrounds worked out yet?"

"Uh, yeah. Almost." He would be done by now if he hadn't been watching Parker. He shakes his head and turns his attention to his laptop but his mind keeps wandering back to the night before.

"It doesn't have to be a masterpiece," Nate says, now staring at the bulletin board in front of him. "It just has to pass a Google search."

"That's like asking Michelangelo to do stick figures," Hardison retorts with and air of indignation. "Fine, fine," he surrenders to Nate's stern look.

"Time to wrap up," Sophie informs them, walking over to survey the board. "Eliot's carving the turkey as we speak."

"What do you think?" Nate asks, nodding toward their plan.

"It's a bit sloppy, and it's not exactly fool proof, but…we'll make it work."

"Sophie, don't you think it would be better-" Hardison starts, but is cut off with a firm negative from both of them. "Come on, does it really have to be Parker?"

"Yes! We've been through this," Nate exclaims in frustration.

"He likes blondes," Sophie says gently. "No way around it."

"I was just hoping I could go at least one week into our engagement before I have to watch her seduce another man," Hardison grumbles. "If he lays a hand on her, I'm gonna-"  
"Is he doing it again?" Parker interrupts. He scowls and turns back to his computer screen as the food begins to migrate to the table. "I let it slide last night, but you can't keep doing this."

"What? Showing concern for your well-being?"

At the sound of the couple's one and only recurring issue, Nate and Sophie slip away to help with the feast.

"Haven't we had this fight before?"

"Yes, but we never finished it," Hardison mentions grumpily.

"Yes, we did."

"No, we didn't," he blurts out, pushing his laptop aside and swiveling his chair toward her. "In the middle of the conversation you jumped off a seventy story building!"

"That was my answer," Parker says plainly.

"That's not an answer!"

"That's a pretty clear message to me," Eliot shouts from across the room.

"Thank you, Eliot," Hardison deadpans. He sighs heavily and leans forward; elbows on knees and head in hands. "Listen, I know you don't need me to protect you," he says to the floor, so quietly that only she can hear. "And, I don't want to hold you back. Not ever, but you scare the hell out of me sometimes." Parker relaxes her shoulders, her defenses lowering. "I'm not like you and Eliot. Fear doesn't give me super human senses and cat like reflexes." She smiles, knowing this to be true, and inches a little closer. "I just get a little stupid when I'm scared."

"A little?" Parker quips. Hardison raises his head to roll his eyes. She plops into his lap and swings an arm around his neck. "I'm not going anywhere," she promises then kisses his cheek.

"This conversation isn't over, is it?" Hardison wonders aloud.

"Not by a long shot." He can't help but return the grin she gives him. "But, I love you….and dinner's ready, so it can wait."

"They are so cute when they make up," Sophie observes from her seat at the table.

"Easy for you to say. You don't have the room right next to theirs," Eliot grumbles.

"You haven't slept in that room since the first night we got here!"

"Where was Eliot last night?" Nate asks, although he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"And, where did Jordan run off to?" Sophie adds, feigning curiosity.

"She didn't want Erin to be alone in the hospital," Eliot explains with a look that would stop most people from continuing to question him.

"So, you…" Nate isn't most people.

"…may have checked in on them at some point," he adds begrudgingly. "Sophie, not a word or, I swear, I'll throw that goose out into the snow!"

"Spoilsport," she mumbles as he takes his seat.

Parker and Hardison, looking just as happy as ever, are the last to squeeze around the table. As soon as they sit, Jordan stands and clears her throat.

"I know we're all starving and the food looks amazing but I just wanted to say something before we dig in," she says a bit nervously. "This Christmas hasn't turned out how any of us imagined. Some bad things have happened and the future is more uncertain than ever, but what really matters is that we are all safe and together. We are still the Dublin Street family, no matter the address. The people around this table are some of the strongest and most resilient souls I have ever met. It is an absolute gift just to know you."

"Here, here," Nate cuts in when Jordan starts to choke up. He raises his glass and everyone toasts.

"And, a special thanks to our newest members," Jordan continues, regaining her composure. "They made room for us in their holiday, in their home, and at their table. To Nate, Sophie, Parker, Alec and Eliot."

There is an outburst of 'cheers' and glasses clinking then the feast begins. The food is passed and piled onto plates. Wine is poured and drank. Conversation flows and laughter erupts frequently. By the time the plates are cleared, more than a few belts have to be loosened.

"What's for dessert?" Parker asked excitedly. She seems to be the only one not drifting into a food coma.

"There's more food?" Sophie says in disbelief.

"There's six different kinds pie." Parker exclaims, but gets only groans in response.

"Why don't we open presents first?" Hardison suggests. "Then, dessert later."

"Much later," Nate adds.

"Did somebody say 'presents'?" Kasey chimes in.

"Yes, but there's one very important thing we have to do before we can open the presents," Sophie says seriously.

"What?" both Parker and Kasey ask in rapt anticipation.

"We have to pick a Santa," she informs them dramatically. "It was always a tradition in my family to pick one person to be Santa every year, and they get to pass out all the gifts."

"I nominate Kasey," Hardison announces.

"Seconded," Nate and Eliot say in unision.

"All those in favor?" Parker asks, raising her hand. The rest of the table copies her as the little girl starts the blush. "It's unanimous! Kasey, I hereby crown you: Santa Claus!" She produces a Santa hat from somewhere and hits the button on Elvis, the snowman. Fittingly, he starts to croon 'Here comes Santa Claus,' and Parker dances Kasey over to the tree.

The group forms a lumpy circle around the room. Some sit on the couches, others on ottomans, or the floor and a few simply turned their chairs away from the table toward the action. The Leverage Team got four gifts apiece, one from each of their teammates, while the rest of the women ended up with two three, at least one of those being scarred by the fire. Kasey made out the best, hauling at least a dozen to her pile. The calm that had settled after dinner is shattered by the sound of paper ripping and squeals of excitement.

"Parker, these are beautiful," Sophie gushes looking between the four framed sketches she's just unwrapped. They are a fashion designer's drawings, but it's the signature that shocks her. "Are these _originals_?"

"Yeah, you wouldn't believe the security on those things. Who is Coco Channel anyway?" Parker asks, mispronouncing the name.

"Chanel, Parker. Coco Chanel," Sophie corrects her, as if the name itself were sacred. "She's a designer, a very famous designer."

"So, you like them?"

"I love them!" She continues gazing at each of them in turn until she notices the disapproving look she's getting from Nate. "I'm not giving them back! I don't care how Parker got them, they're mine now!" She puts them back in their box, out of his reach, and shoves one his presents into his lap. "Come on, let's see what Parker got you?" Sophie hopes it's something equally amazing and illegally obtained so he can't try to guilt her.

As he pulls out the hideous Christmas sweater and matching socks, she has a fleeting moment of disappointment, but seeing his face makes up for it. They haggle for few minutes as Sophie convinces him to try it on, while stealthily grabbing her camera.

The look on Nate's face is very similar to Eliot's as he holds up the t-shirt Hardison gave him. 'I don't need a weapon, I am a weapon,' it proclaims over the image of Chuck Norris.

"It's so you!" the hacker jokes. "And, it's still better than what you got me."

"I put a lot of thought into that," Eliot retorts. "It's useful and it shows that I care."

"You gave me pepper spray and a rape whistle!"

"I hope you think of me every time you use them," He says with false sincerity. Hardison is about to use the pepper spray _on_ Eliot when Parker comes flying at him. As usual the hug nearly knocks him over but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love it," she whispers in his ear and squeezes him a little tighter.

"Since when does Parker like Spiderman?" Eliot asks, not understanding why she should be so pleased by an old comic book.

"Long story," Hardison gasps after Parker releases him. He cringes slightly as she removes the collector's item from it's plastic protection. She pages through it like it was last week's People Magazine just as he knew she would.

Meanwhile, Sophie is trying on the bracelet from Nate and watching him out of the corner of her eye. As he unwraps the small box, he is impressed with the antique pocket watch but nearly chokes when he sees the engraving. He reads it three times to make sure it's not a trick of the light before looking up at Sophie.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Huh..."

"After all these years, you finally know my real name and all you have to say is 'huh'?" she asks in disenchantment. "Men!" she scoffs as he stammers on and turns back to the rest of her gifts. "Oh, Eliot, this is gorgeous!" she says holding up the cashmere sweater. "The color's perfect, thank you."

"And, thank you," he replies nodding at the top of the line kitchen gadget she gave him.

"Is that shampoo?" she asks, noticing the huge bottle with his other presents.

"Yeah, it's from Parker, to replace what she 'borrowed' when she used to break into my place." He scowls when she laughs at this, but then a thought occurs to him. "She used to break into your place too."

"Used too? I'm sure she still does," Sophie shrugs indifferently. "You want her to stay sharp, don't you?"

"So, you don't care that she used to steal your leftovers?"

"Eliot, please," she says mockingly. "Do I look like the kind of woman who eats _leftovers_? You know I hate the phrase 'doggie bag'." Eliot stares at her in disbelief. "What? I didn't want our little thief to be malnourished."

"This is the strangest family I have ever been a part of."

"Yes, and the very best," she points out. He's about to agree, but stands abruptly instead. "What is it?"

"I have to go break the DVD player," Eliot says simply.

"What? Why?" Sophie asks in alarm. He doesn't reply, but nods toward Hardison who just unwrapped a box set of Doctor Who. "Oh, I see. Break away." He grabs the Katana sword that Nate had given him and stalks off.

As the evening starts to wind down, Sophie sits back and surveys the room. Everyone seems to be floating in a sea of crumpled wrapping paper as 'Thank-you's and 'Merry Christmas's crisscross the room. First she glances at Nate. He's testing out his noise-canceling headphones, courtesy of Hardison, and setting the time on his new (well, antique) pocket watch. Parker is recoiling the climbing rope from Eliot while Hardison shows her something on the new techno-gizmo Nate gave him. Sophie isn't sure where Eliot went, but after seeing Jordan slipping out the back door she has a pretty good guess.

Lastly, she takes in the women, some with bruises still shadowing their faces, smiling and laughing without a care in the world. Tomorrow the spell of Christmas will break and these women will have to face the cold world once again. Sophie's eyes are drawn to the bulletin board in the corner, knowing now, more than ever, what is at stake.

* * *

Eliot Spencer is not an easy man to sneak up on, but even without his heightened senses, the crunch of snow is impossible to miss. He stops his attack on the DVD player and sheaths the sword as Jordan approaches.

"So, do you have homicidal tendencies towards all electronics or just DVD players?"

"…Preemptive strike," he explains gruffly.

"I see. You wanted to keep the stereo from getting any ideas," Jordan suggests, narrowing her eyes at the now mangled device. Eliot smiles, happy to see a glimpse of her sense of humor. "You're going to have to tell me eventually, you know," she adds, catching him off guard.

"Tell you what?"

"I know you talked to the Fire Marshall this morning." He drops his head, unable to look her in the eyes. "Just tell me. How bad is it?" She asks heavily.

"It started on the south side of the building, your office. There are traces of accelerants, probably lighter fluid." Eliot tries to find a gentle approach to convey the information, but there's no nice way to put it. "Most of the second floor is gone and the third collapsed on top of it. The North side is still there, but the water damage is pretty extensive."

"Unsalvageable?" she asks, finding the answer in his silence. Jordan takes a few deep breaths, letting the word sink in.

"That may have been the term he used," Eliot says, carefully leaning the sword against a nearby tree. He sees the tears welling in her eyes, but before he can reach her, she strides forward and stomps on the DVD player. She continues to kick at it madly until her grunts become sobs and her rage is spent. When she is about to crumple into the snow, Eliot's arms brace her, holding her up.

"I always knew he was a jerk," Jordan utters quietly, letting him guide her to the back porch. They sit down on the steps, his arm still around her. "I've known for years. Hot-headed, selfish… mean." Eliot doesn't need to ask to know she is talking about Evan James. "Hurting Sarah, and trying to shut us down…that's just more of the same. But, setting fire to a house full of people…that's evil.

"What kind of man does that?"

Eliot wonders what she might have to say about some of his darker deeds, but says nothing.

"He could have killed us," Jordan says trying to comprehend the idea herself. "I've helped abused women, counseled them for years….but, this is the first time I've felt like one."

"What do you usually tell them?" Eliot asks pointedly.

"That it's not their fault," she replies. "They didn't bring this on themselves. They're strong, they deserve better and there's a way out."

"That's good advice."

* * *

Ok, i hope you enjoyed the little slice of Christmas in July. The next few chapters get a little job heavy, but stick with me. Once that's wrapped up it will be more focused around Parker and Hardison again. I plan to take them all the way to the wedding and beyond...


	26. Game

"Darling, I know! It's been way too long!" The brunette is saying loudly into her cell phone with a over the top California accent. "As soon as I wrap this up, we'll do St. Bart's, I promise!" She takes off her coat to reveal an equally over the top outfit and shoves it into her assistant's already full hands as they enter the restaurant bar.

"What do you mean 'he's backing out'? He signed a contract," the younger blonde says frantically into her own cell phone. "You didn't get him to sign? How could you miss that? She's going to kill me now!"

"No, this town is perfect. It's practically Mayberry. We just have to find a house." The older woman snaps her fingers at her assistant, who juggles all the things in her arms but somehow produces a travel sized box of disinfectant wipes. She takes one and continues to talk as she wipes down the bar top and stool before sitting down. "I think we'll do the father and child reunion for sweeps, and the proposal for the season finale. Then we can tie in a wedding special."

"I'm the one who has to tell her, so I'm the one who's going to get fired," the assistant goes on in a hushed tone. "She better still pay for my flight back, she can't just leave me in Minnesota."

The bar is almost empty, the lunch rush has past, so the few patrons that are there can hear every word of both of their conversations.

"Oh, what does it matter? You plant eight new people in a small town, someone's going to hook up with a local. I don't care if they are ex-cons."

"We have five days to fix this! Call him back, I don't care what you have to offer. We need a host."

Both women say their goodbyes and hang up almost simultaneously as the bartender comes over.

"Gin martini and a water with lemon," the brunette orders before he has the chance the greet them.

"Could I just have a water? Thank you," the assistant says almost apologetically. She sets down the three bags, appointment book, folder, cell phone and her boss's coat so that she can finally take off her own.

"I'm going to go freshen up," the woman says with out looking up, eyes glued to her phone. "Just order me a salad or something." She then saunters off leaving her employee looking absolutely drained. "Ok, Parker, he's looking at you so play it cool," Sophie's normal voice issues from the earpiece as soon as she's out of sight. "Alright, heavy sigh, and maybe stretch your neck a bit. Perfect."

"Thank you," Parker says kindly when the bartender returns with their drinks. After he walks away, she turns to rummage in one of the bags and finds a bottle of aspirin. As she struggles with the child proof cap, she can sense the man from two seats down approach.

"Here," he says, taking the bottle from her hands and easily popping the cap off.

"Thanks," she says heavily, taking two tablets and tossing them back.

"Avoid eye contact Parker, look at your hands instead," Sophie coaches.

"You look like you could use something a little stronger than that," the man says with half a smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I wish," Parker replies. "Unfortunately, I'm on the clock." She glances toward the bathrooms nervously before adding, "But, stick around, I'm probably going to get fired in a few minutes."

"She can't fire you. It's Christmas."

"Yesterday was Christmas. Today is just Thursday," Parker says sadly.

"Now look at him," Sophie directs. "Puppy eyes, and little pout, good."

"Why are you going to get fired? Maybe we can turn it around?"

"We're here scouting locations for a reality show and we just lost our host. It took us three months to find him and now we have nothing. The deal is supposed to be locked in on the first of the year…" Parker drops her head and massages her temple, just like Sophie showed her that morning. "It's going to fall apart and she's going to fire me because I'm the only one here to fire."

"Hey, you're not fired yet. A lot can happen in five days." The hand he places on Parker's shoulder sends an icy chill down her spine, but she doesn't show it. "I'm Evan, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Karen."

"Ugh, what a creep." Jordan is pacing behind Hardison, putting the hacker even more on edge.

"I can't believe I fell for that act," Sarah mumbles, staring at the camera feed.

"He's good," Hardison scowls, while cracking his knuckles.

"Take it easy," Nate warns. "He's a sociopath, he's been at this for a long time."

"Outstanding," Hardison says disdainfully. "Baby, I know we usually say 'no stabbing', but in this case-"

"Damn it, Hardison!" Eliot growls before he can finish.

"Too many voices…" Parker mutters under her breath.

"What did you say?" Evan asks.

"Uh… so many choices," She clarifies, nodding at the menu. When the bartender returns she orders a simple sandwich for herself then takes five minutes ordering an elaborate salad for Sophie. "She wants the carrots diced, not slivered and is that dressing fat free?" The bartender shrugs, clearly not enjoying himself. "Ok, just put it on the side, and if she asks, it definitely is fat free. Thank you."

"There is no way you're getting paid enough," Evan decides after she finishes.

"Tell that to my boss," Parker replies. "Wait, no don't. She'll think I was complaining."

"Why do you work for her? She seems like a bitch."

"She's a very important producer. She's earned the right to be a bitch." Parker explains. "And, If you put in a year or two with her you can pretty much handle anything. Her last assistant is VP of alternative programming at NBC now."

"Wow."

* * *

"I don't believe carousing with local soaks is in your job description, Karen," Sophie says caustically when she returns.

"Alexa, this is Evan James, he owns that huge house we passed on Lakeview Road. I was just asking him some questions about the local real estate opportunities." Her voice is tight and wavers slightly, the act impressing even Sophie.

"Alexa Kint." Sophie's whole demeanor changes in an instant. She puts down her phone and offers a perfectly manicured hand to Evan. "So, nice to meet you." He shakes her hand cordially and returns the sentiment. "I absolutely love your house. Is there any chance you'd like to lease it out for a few months?"

"Lease it? For what?"

"We're shooting a reality show in the spring and summer and we desperately need a location. Your house would be perfect."

"It's been in my family for generations. I don't think I could," Evan replies regretfully.

"Oh, come on. You haven't even heard my offer yet."

"Ok, tell me about this show." He leans back and folds his arms. If Sophie didn't know better she would think he wasn't remotely interested in show business.

"It's called 'Halfway Home.' It's like the 'Real World,' but it's a halfway house. Ex-cons dropped into an adorable little god-fearing community. They get a clean slate, have to re-assimilate themselves into society, make amends, reconnect with family. It's really a beautiful concept."

"You want to put a bunch of criminals in my family estate?" His voice sounds shocked but there is smile at the corner of his lips.

"They're all on parole for good behavior. It's not like they're mass murders or anything. Plus they'll be monitored better than most parolees. Cameras, mics, and, of course ankle bracelets."

"Why my house?"

"We need someplace large, preferably on the lake, private," Sophie reasons. "And, it's got to have the right look. Your place would be ideal."

"If I were even considering this deal, I'd want to be a part of the production," he states carefully.

"Well, there's always room for another intern."

"No, I think I'd like a more _visible_ position."

Sophie gives him a look that is both annoyed and impressed with his shrewdness. "Unless you're a parole officer or an ex-con, you're out of luck. We already have a host."

"No, we don't actually," Parker interjects timidly.

"What?" Sophie asks angrily.

"Mark called, the movie pushed back the shooting schedule and it created a conflict. So, he backed out before signing." She relays it as quickly as possible, then adds quietly, "Please don't fire me."

"That changes the game, doesn't it?" Evan says coolly.

"I've got to hand it to you," Sophie admits, "You played it perfectly." She then turns to Parker sternly, "You're not fired yet, but if this blows up in my face you will be." Her blonde head nods quickly. "And, you….It's not a done deal. I want a tour of the house before we decide anything. Karen can set it up." She waves her hand at them dismissively and turns to her salad that has just arrived. "Is this dressing fat free?" Sophie asks as Parker pages through the appointment book.

"Yep," the surly bartender states without question.

* * *

"How did you do that?" Jordan asks in awe.

"Do what?" Sophie wonders as she removes the heavy gold jewelry of 'Alexa Kint.'

"You got him to do exactly what you wanted and you made him think he was tricking you."

"This is what we do."

"You guys keep saying that, and it's starting to scare me."

"Don't worry," Sophie laughs. "We only use our powers for good…now." Before Jordan can ask what she means by that, Sophie continues. "Nate, you're up."

"He looked up Sophie and called his lawyer, he wants this deal," Hardison announces from his computer.

"Perfect," Nate says, straightening his lime green tie. "Time to go to work."


	27. Set

The sun is already fading beyond the horizon by the time Nate reaches Evan's house. He rings the doorbell four times in rapid succession then knocks on the door until it opens.

"Ah, Mr. James. It's good to see you again."

The look on Evan's face clearly shows that the feelings are not mutual. Nate strolls past him with out invitation and picks up the nearest trinket, examining it clumsily.

"I was under the impression that I wouldn't be seeing you again," he says haughtily. He seems to have used up all his charm on Parker and Sophie. He takes the little statue from Nate roughly and places it back on the hall table. "The building is ashes, there's no one for me to evict. In fact, in the spirit of the season, I'll even forgive their outstanding debt. Merry Christmas, there's the door."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Nate says pursing his lips. "You see, you made one fatal mistake."

"What's that?" A look a fear flickers across Evan's face, but quickly shifts to a sneer.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to find out."

"You've got to be joking."

"Is attempted murder funny to you?" Nate asks. "As if one count weren't enough, I'm going to get you charged with a dozen."

"You don't have anything on me."

"Maybe not, but that's never stopped me before." Nate continues to walk around like he owns the place, pouring himself a drink and sinking into an armchair. "This is a nice little retreat you've got. I think the girls will be comfortable here, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm going to take your house and give it to Jordan Schulz," he says matter of factly.

"You can't do that!" Evan grinds out.

"Have you ever been to law school, Mr. James? It's amazing the tricks you can play with the law."

"I think you should be going now," he says, clenching his fists.

"Careful, you don't want to add assault and battery to you list of crimes," Nate warns. "I don't care how many motions I have to file or how long it takes," he says, rising from the chair. "I'm going to bring you down." With that he drains the glass, hands it back to Evan and strolls out the way he came. He smiles in satisfaction when he hears the glass crash against the door as soon as it's closed.

* * *

"Good morning," Parker says brightly. "What happened to you?"

"I'm not a morning person," Evan says groggily.

"Alexa is going to be here in twenty minutes so you better wake up fast."

"Listen, Karen," he sighs and she can smell last night's alcohol on his breath. "I really want to help you out, but I don't think this is going to work."

"No! It has to work!" Parker says desperately. "You don't understand. She was actually nice to yesterday." She lays a hand on his forearm for emphasis, and pretends not to consider to possibility of breaking his wrist. "It was only for ten minutes, but still. If I bring this deal together, she'll have to give me a recommendation."

"I'm really sorry, but my hands are tied." It's hard to believe this is the same man that threw Nate out the day before. "This legal issue just came up, I don't know how long it's going to take to clear it up."

"I'll call our lawyers! They can get anyone out of anything, I promise," Parker says pleadingly. "This isn't just for me. This is your chance too." At Sophie's direction, she flashes the sad puppy eyes again. "We have to try."

"Fine, call the lawyers."

"Thank you, thank you , thank you," Parker squeals, pulling him in for a hug. "Come on, I'll brew the coffee," She says, tugging him to the kitchen. Back at the cabin, Hardison clenches his jaw, but remains silent.

When Evan returns from brushing his hair and teeth, Parker is pouring the coffee and talking on the phone.

"…a property he owned burned down and now the former tenants hired some sleazy lawyer to try to bleed him dry."

"I think he's bipolar," Hardison grumbles on the other end of the line.

"Uh-huh, it was an old house, probably the wiring," Parker continues to adlib. "No, nobody was hurt."

"I bet he has hair plugs too," he rambles. "Ask him how often he goes to the tanning salon."

"Ok, great. We'll see you tonight. Thanks, bye."

"What did he say?" Evan asks, blowing on the steaming hot coffee. Parker falters for a moment, thinking of actually telling him what Hardison said.

"He's going to look into it, but he seemed optimistic," she lies. "Said this kind of thing happens all the time. All you have to do is push back a little. Once this Poppa-whatever-his-name-is knows you aren't going to fold, he'll probably move onto his next scam." Her eyes drift to his hairline distractedly, but she shakes herself back into the moment. "He's coming here tonight to help finalize the contracts so he'll tell us then."

"You're amazing," he says with a cocky grin. "We should celebrate after everything is signed. I never did get to buy you that drink." Before she can answer, the doorbell rings.

"That's Alexa! Good luck!" Parker pushes him toward the door, grateful to avoid the question.

The next hour passes in a flash. Evan gives them a tour of the enormous house, his charm never failing. Parker takes photos for 'production purposes' and rushes to meet Sophie's every need. All the questions are answered, potential alterations are accepted. When they find themselves back in the living room, Sophie makes an announcement.

"Well, I love the house and you'll make as good a host as anybody," she says a little begrudgingly. "So, do we have a deal?"

"I think so," he replies, shaking the hand she offers.

"David will be here with the official contracts tonight. Shall with say dinner at seven?"

"Sounds good. Oh, and my lawyer will want to look them over before I sign.

"No problem," Sophie says easily. "I'll have them brought to him the moment they get here and he can meet us at the restaurant once he's given them a once over."

"Great, I'll see you then," Evan says with what might actually be a genuine smile. Parker hugs him again, but this time he doesn't release her as easily. "Can't you stay for a bit?" His smile remains but there is something cold behind his eyes.

"Karen, let's go!" Sophie bellows already halfway to the door.

"I better catch up. I still need her to not fire me for a few more hours." Parker forces herself not to shudder when she makes her escape.

"I bet having Parker call Agent McSweetin doesn't seem that bad anymore…" Eliot muses back at the cabin.

"Thank you, Eliot," Hardison says sarcastically. "I appreciate that little silver lining."

"You know me, I'm all about that 'glass half full'." The girls return in the midst of their tiff.

"We've definitely got him," Sophie says proudly. "Parker was spectacular."

"Yeah, I didn't stab him once," she beams. "And, that was not an easy urge to suppress."

"I almost dumped hot coffee into his lap, but I figured that we need him in a good mood," Sophie reasons regretfully.

"Let's just leave that until everything is signed, ok?" Nate recommends.

The team agrees hesitantly, and returns to the task at hand. By six o'clock everything is in order and the plan is set in motion.


	28. Match!

6:03 p.m.

"I know you're very excited about this opportunity, but don't you think you're rushing things?"

"This is how it works in the business," Evan says, oozing condescension. "It has to get done now. We need to be ready to shoot in 90 days. Permits need to be filed, remodels done, there's no time to waste."

"I don't trust these people and I'm not sure you should be so quick to-"

"You're my lawyer, not my mother," he jeers, considering hanging up on Mr. Edwards. "Alexa Kint is an established producer, she knows what she's doing."

"I just wish you would-"

"I'm sorry, where in your retention agreement does it say that I have to do you favors?" Evan scoffs and Edwards remains silent. He can picture the little man shrinking behind the large desk like he always does. "Look over the contracts and make sure they aren't screwing me. If anything comes up, just text me. I'm getting sick of your whining."

"Yes, sir," he replies in defeat. "He's here now. If everything is in order, I'll see you at the restaurant." Evan hangs up without acknowledgement or goodbye, leaving his lawyer waiting on a dead line. "Oh, ok, goodbye then, " he mumbles awkwardly to the dial tone.

"Mr. Edwards," Hardison says hurriedly. "David Eccleston. I believe you're expecting me."

"Yes, Evan wanted me to look at his contact."

"Well, it's all here. His contract, lease agreement for the house," he rambles, spreading the documents out on the desk. "This is a standard gag order. Can't have him spilling the beans before the season finale, you know!" In the shuffle he manages to swipe Edwards' phone, smoothly slipping it into his pocket. "Ok, well, I have a few other things to take care of. You just bring it all with you and we'll see you at dinner."

He barely notices Hardison leave as he stares at the pile of paper he's expected to deal with. All in less than an hour.

Hardison nods to the security guards in the lobby, but they are distracted by the gentleman in the royal blue suit walking in. Although they are staring at Nate, they still miss the hand-off of Edwards' phone as the two men pass each other.

6:28 p.m.

"Eliot, are you in place?" Nate asks, staking out the hallway outside of Edwards' offices. Eliot doesn't quite answer, it's more of a growl in reply.

"Stay in character," Sophie warns into their earpieces.

"Tell me again why I have to be this particular character," Eliot asks.

"We need you close, but inconspicuous."

"I'm wearing a red suit and ringing a bell!" he points out angrily. The woman who was about to put a dollar in his donation kettle jumps back and quickly walks away.

"You're Santa. Respect the suit!" Parker butts in.

"You've been all over town with Jordan and Sarah. We can't risk Evan recognizing you," Sophie says, pretending not to enjoy his aggravation.

"Ho. Ho. Ho," Eliot grumbles lifelessly.

"You're supposed to be jolly," Parker informs him, to which he rings the bell loudly into his earpiece in response. Everyone winces, Eliot included, but he decides that it was worth it to silence them.

6:42 p.m.

"Parker, are you at the restaurant yet?" Nate asks, having since switched the comm. to his other ear.

"I'm almost within range," she says rounding a corner and seeing Eliot thirty feet away.

"Within range?"

"I mean I'm almost there," she corrects, while scooping up a handful of snow. Not wanting to blow their cover, he doesn't look around to find her in the thin crowd of passers-by, so Parker catches him completely off guard.

When the snowball hits, it nearly knocks the Santa hat right off his head. He yanks it back into place as his eyes search for the culprit. Parker sprints by and through the revolving doors of the restaurant before Eliot has the chance to retaliate.

"Everybody focus!" Nate mediates.

"She threw a snowball at me!"

"He deserved it!"

"Enough!" Nate sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is why he said no jobs. "Hardison, where's Evan?"

"Just leaving his house now," he answers from his van packed down the street. He waits a few moments after the car passes then pulls out to follow him.

"Good," Nate replies and pulls the cell phone out of his pocket. "Sending the text now."

6:57 p.m.

"I'm meeting a private party," Evan says arrogantly. "I believe it's under the name Alexa Kint." The name doesn't impress the hostess but she smiles graciously anyway.

"Yes, you'll be in The Wine Room tonight. If you'll just follow me." He swaggers through the restaurant to the back room. Parker is already there, straightening the place settings and checking the glasses for watermarks. "No rest for the wicked, huh?" he says as he strolls in.

"Not until this deal goes through." She fakes exhaustion to cover her discomfort at being stuck with him again. Luckily their server comes in before he can get too close to her.

"Hi, I'm Allison. I'll be taking care of you tonight." Parker returns her smile and Evan ignores her completely. "Did you want start with any appetizers or drinks right away?"

"We'll be having champagne later, but for now some wine," Parker decides. "You can open two bottles to start, but we should wait to serve until the other three arrive." Allison nods and goes over to the wall that is basically an enormous wine rack. She takes down Parker's selection and cuts the foil off before uncorking them.

"Actually, there will only be two more," Evan announces. "My lawyer won't be joining us."

"Is anything wrong with the contracts?"

"No, he says it's all in order, but something came up at the office," he explains, reading the message on his phone. "He sent the papers along with a Mr. Eccleston."

"Perfect. He should be here any second." She puts heavy emphasis on the 'should,' hoping her fiancé gets the point that she doesn't want to be alone with him any longer than necessary.

"I hear you loud and clear, mama," Hardison says, having just dodged a snowball from Eliot. "On my way in now."

7:01 p.m.

Nate checks the time on the watch Sophie gave him before sauntering into Edwards' office.

"What are you doing here?" the man asks in surprise.

"Oh, just thought we could have a chat," Nate replies casually. "You're not busy, are you?"

"I don't have time for this," the little lawyer says in fatigue. He glances at the clock nervously, then goes back to scanning the contract on his desk. "You'll have to come back next week." Nate doesn't need to see the tremor of his hand or the perspiration on his forehead to tell that the man is nervous.

Like most of the other people in Evan's life he is the nervous type. Too timid to ever stand up to him and easy to push around. The same qualities that Evan found in Parker's character, and why he was drawn to her. Another person he could easily manipulate. Nate almost feels bad for the guy, but he knows that getting fired by Evan James will be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Nate ignores the dismissal and starts what is to be a very distracting conversation. Poor Mr. Edwards… he has no idea that he should have stayed in bed today.

7:05 p.m.

"Good evening, I'm joining the party in The Wine Room," Hardison smiles kindly at the hostess. "There might be a few people stopping in later to say hi. They'll probably flash a badge and ask for Evan James. If you wouldn't mind showing them right on in, that would be great."

"No problem, sir," she replies and leads him to the back room. He pretends not to notice how close Evan is standing to Parker or the defensive set of her shoulders. He paints a fake smile on his face as he greets her and introduces himself.

"How was your flight?" Parker asks, relaxing a bit.

"It would have been a lot better if it had landed someplace else, you know what I'm saying?" Hardison holds up his hand to give Evan a high five, but lowers it awkwardly seeing the man's expression. "Apparently you don't…"

"What are we doing about that lawyer?" Evan asks bluntly.

"Oh, right," he stammers, putting his briefcase on the table and popping it open. "He doesn't have leg to stand on, but he could still cause problems for us so we had to change some of the wording."

"What wording?"

"Well, instead of leasing the house to us, you're donating it?"

"What? Did Edwards agree to this?" Evan asks, reaching for his phone.

"Let me explain, it'll all make sense in a moment," Hardison soothes. "You'll still be paid for the house and we'll give it back to you when we're done, but on paper it has to look like a donation." Evan stops dialing but doesn't put the phone down. "This guy wants to take your house, but you won't have a house to take because you gave it to us. Since it's being used as a bona fide halfway house, it's technically property of the state. He can't touch it."

"And, what about the money?"

"We fold that into your salary for the hosting job," Hardison explains. "If anyone snoops around, it just looks like we gave you a signing bonus."

"Edwards agreed to this?"

"It's the only way around it. He thought it would be best."

"That spineless toad, he would agree to anything," Evan remarks harshly.

"Trust me, one snag and Alexa will dump this whole thing," Hardison warns. "We have to kill this now."

"He's right," Parker adds, with a meaningful look. "So, are you in?"

"I'm in," Evan says with a dead-eyed smile. "But I want to be paid in full for the house. Tonight."

"Start signing, and I'll make the calls." Hardison hands him a pen and walks to the corner of the room to make his fake phone calls.

7:21 p.m.

"Why isn't the champagne open yet?" Sophie asks when she walks in.

"We were waiting for you," Parker says anxiously. She rises from her chair and rushes to flag down their server.

"Is the ink dry yet?" Sophie strides to the table and starts glancing over the documents spread across it.

"Waiting on one thing," Evan says, holding up the property agreement.

"Sweetie, without the house everything else is moot," she points out. "What's the hold up?"

Evan nods toward Hardison who is still on his phone and copying something onto a note pad. He thanks the imaginary person on the line before hanging up then rips the page out of the little book.

"Here it is," he says, handing the paper to Evan. "The account we just set up, it's all there."

"I'll be confirming that for myself, thank you."

"Who would guess this was your first rodeo," Sophie muses as he pulls out his phone.

"Guys, who is he calling?" Nate asks, with a hint of worry.

"Calling your banker? That's smart," Sophie remarks to answer Nate. Evan smiles smugly and starts relaying the account information to the man on his phone.

"It's there? All of it?…Ok, you know what to do." Evan hangs up without a goodbye once again and turns back to the table just as Parker returns with the server.

"Champagne, please," Evan demands without looking up from the paper in front of him. He signs with a flourish and hands the contract to Hardison who puts it safely into his briefcase. Across town, Nate is wrapping up with Edwards. The man is practically in tears trying to push him and his bright blue suit out of his office.

"Karen, you can make the calls now," Sophie states, just as Parker is about to take a sip of champagne.

"Actually, why don't you make the calls, Alexa," Evan says venomously. Sophie pretends to be shocked even though she knew this was coming.

"Um, Nate…" Hardison mumbles, looking at his phone under the table. "He's transferring the money," he whispers into his napkin.

"Transferring it where?"

"I have no idea."

"I have an assistant for that kind of thing," Sophie continues, despite hearing what they are talking about.

"Not anymore."

"Evan, what are you doing?" Parker asks in alarm.

"Can you track it?" Nate asks their hacker.

"Not without being obvious."

"Then be obvious!"

"Without Karen, your deal would be up in smoke," Evan sneers.

"Interesting choice of words," Sophie mutters as Hardison pulls a laptop out of his briefcase and starts typing frantically. Evan seems completely unbothered by this, evidently having seen it coming.

"In fact, I think Karen would much rather be my assistant."

Sophie grabs her phone and storms out in a huff. Parker starts to follow, but is stopped short by a viselike hand on her wrist. She smiles nervously as she tries to twist out of Evan's grip.

"I appreciate you standing up for me, but I can't quit like this," she says tentatively.

"You don't want to be my assistant?" he asks coldly. "Or maybe you want to be more than my assistant?" He yanks her closer and that is the last straw for Hardison.

"Ok, that's enough!" He snaps the laptop shut and stands boldly.

"Shouldn't you be trying to track your money?" Evan asks rhetorically. "Yeah, I had it transferred to moment it was confirmed. How stupid do you think I am."

"Give me a fork. Somebody needs to stab this dude!"

"Alec, it's fine!"

"Alec? I thought his name was David," Evan says, his smirk faltering.

"Rein it in, Hardison," Nate advises, breathless in his attempt to reach the restaurant.

"No, Parker. He went too far," he fumes and pulls her away from Evan.

"I thought her name was Karen!" Evan sputters.

"And, you thought my name was Alexa," Sophie says coolly from the doorway. "There's a lot of confusion going around today." Evan looks between the three trying to put the pieces together. "Oh yeah, and I'm English," she adds, slipping back into her natural accent.

"What's going on?" he demands.

"It's your comeuppance," Sophie answers simply. His mouth hangs open in shock or confusion. "Oh, he's not following. What's the American way of putting it?"

"Karma?" Parker ventures.

"Yeah, it's a bitch," Hardison agrees, putting his usual 'flavor' into it.

"Who are you people?"

"We're the good guys," Nate says, strolling past Sophie.

"You?" Evan asks in disbelief.

"I told you that I would take you down," he replies apologetically. "You could hand over the keys now."

"No…but…I gave my house to them…to a TV show."

"That's right, how kind of you," Sophie interjects. "You signed your house over to 'Halfway Home', and its holding company D.S.S. and Co."

"D.S.S…" Parker says confidently, barely resembling the 'Karen' that Evan met.

"Dublin Street Shelter," Hardison decodes for him.

"'Halfway Home' is their most recent project, since _somebody _burned their house down. You're their first patron," Parker finishes with pride.

"B-but, you paid me!" Evan says triumphantly. "I have your money."

"That's true," Hardison concedes with a wince. "He transferred it to a private account before I could stop him." The hacker stares at his shoes while Nate starts to criticize him. Sophie adds fuel to the fire and Parker jumps to his defense. As they bicker amongst themselves, Evan grabs the briefcase and makes a dash for the door.

He tries to act naturally as he walks through the crowded restaurant. Nobody seems to notice the man who is two million dollars richer than when he walked in and has a case full of documents that need to be destroyed. Evan picks up the pace when he hears raised voices behind him. He's at a full sprint by the time he reaches the revolving door. As he pushes through it, he glances back to see the four imposters on his tail.

7:39 p.m.

Looking back…this is his fatal mistake. Because he is looking back, he doesn't see the bad-tempered Santa Claus outside the door. All Eliot has to do is grab one of the dividers as they spin by and the door stops abruptly. Not only did Evan smash his face into the glass knocking himself out but he is also trapped in the little triangular compartment. The rest of the team arrive at the door just as flashing lights appear in the distance.

"Jumped the gun a little bit, Hardison" Eliot remarks pulling down his beard.

"It worked," he shrugs at Evan's unconscious body slumped against the door. He pushes forward causing an unsettling squeak as Evan's face slides against the glass then falls forward onto the sidewalk where Eliot roughly hauls him up. Hardison then stands back allowing Parker and Sophie to go first.

"You _did_ jump the gun, Alec," Nate says from behind him. He was hoping the mastermind would miss that small detail.

"I know."

"This is your one free pass. Consider it an engagement present." Nate flashes an uncharacteristic smile as he pushes through the door. Hardison breathes a sigh of relief before following him out into the cold.

8:10 p.m.

"Well, I'm on my Christmas vacation so I couldn't do any official business," Parker is explaining to Agent McSweetin. "I really appreciate you coming all the way up here."

"Of course, anything for a colleague," he replies, trying not to blush. "I can't believe this guy. Torching a women's shelter and then stealing from his dead parent's scholarship fund in the same week."

"He actually thought running the money through one dummy bank account would cover his tracks. Amateur," Parker scoffs.

"Wait! Stop!" Evan exclaims, resisting the FBI as they try to drag him away. "I didn't steal that money! They gave it to me! They're frauds!"

"Yeah, he's really spiraling out of control," she comments sadly.

"So, this shouldn't take too long… Do you maybe want to get some dinner?" he asks hopefully.

"Look in my briefcase! They conned me!"

"This briefcase?" Hardison asks, appearing at Parker's side.

"Oh, you're here too," McSweetin mumbles in disappointment. "Right, partners…partners vacation together all the time…"

"Those are fake. They tricked me into signing!" Evan is yelling as the agents stuff him into the backseat of a car.

"Here you go," Hardison says shoving the case into McSweetin's hands. "It's all the evidence against him. Enjoy." He can't help the satisfied smile that spreads across his face as he slips his arm over Parker's shoulders.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Merry Christmas," Parker says as a consolation when he walks away crestfallen.

"Did he hurt your wrist when he grabbed you?" Hardison asks, noticing that she is absently rubbing it.

"No." She looks down, seeming surprised that her hands would act without her intent. "I just didn't like the feeling…" She considers ending there but decides that it's time she stopped holding back, if only with him. "It reminded me of when somebody else did it."

Hardison wonders if this is Parker or Rebecca talking. It doesn't matter, he decides. He loves them both. He kisses her forehead and pulls her into a tight hug.

"Are you sure you don't want to stab him with a fork?" he asks after a silent moment. "He's cuffed, it would be really easy." She rewards him with a laugh and pulls him toward the van where the rest of the team is waiting.

"Eliot, put your beard back on!" Parker scolds as they walk over. "A little kid could see you!"

"It's itchy!"

"Dude, respect the suit," Hardison adds.

"Damn it, Hardison!" Eliot reaches down as his friend takes off around the van. Hardison ducks behind the hood just as a line drive flies across it. He pops up to gloat only to be hit square in the face by another. He fires back, but hits Sophie when Eliot dives out of the way. From then on, it's all out war. Snowballs soar in all directions, nobody is safe.

When a wayward throw hits the BMW two cars down, setting off its alarm, they scramble into the van like a disorderly fire drill. They screech away into the night, (Parker ended up in the driver's seat) laughing breathlessly and singing along to the Christmas carols still being played continuously on the radio.

* * *

So there it is, that's the job. Hope you liked it because I'm going to try real hard not to do that again. It was more difficult than I expected. Look forward to another chapter in this thread, kind of an epilogue. Then it will be back to Hardison/Parker, with the others sprinkled in for variety.


	29. Happy New Year!

AN: sorry this took so long. this was a tough one to construct, hope it doesn't feel too disjointed to you. it's just little pieces of their evening to tie up some loose ends and prepare for the next chapter. the parts in italics near the end are their innner thoughts, hope it's not confusing. enjoy!

* * *

"Happy New Year!"

"Parker, it's only six o'clock," Eliot informs her. "You're a few hours early."

"I was talking to Sophie," she explains, raising her glass of champagne to the grifter, who is the last to join them in the living room. "She was born in England, so her year is already new."

"Thank you," Sophie replies, liking the idea and accepting the glass Hardison offers. "Happy New Year, London," she says, toasting with Parker.

"Are we going to do this every hour?" Eliot asks, afraid of the answer.

"Damn! Is it six already?" Hardison exclaims.

"What's wrong?" Parker asks.

"I forgot to wish Luxembourg a Happy New Year," he quips, earning a chuckle from Eliot and a scowl from his fiancé.

"Just for that, I'm not going to wish your time zone a Happy New Year," she decides.

"Good luck. I grew up in Chicago. We're in my time zone, baby!"

"At seven, we can wish Rekjavik a Happy New Year," Sophie points out.

"Nope, uh-uh! Nothing in Iceland is new or happy," Hardison says, shaking his head quickly. Talk of the only county in which he's a wanted man always puts him on edge.

"Maybe we should honeymoon there…" Parker muses with a grin.

"Seriously?"

"This is what one glass of champagne does to you guys?" Nate asks with concern. "Lightweights…"

The rest of the team exchanges exasperated looks but Parker is the first to act. Without a word, she turns to him and blows her party horn in his face. It unfurls right into his eye. "We should probably get going now," he decides, not waiting to see what the others might do. He puts down his glass and heads toward the door, unintentionally winking the whole way. As soon as his back is turned the laughter they were suppressing bursts forth, following him out the door.

* * *

The Dublin Street Women's Shelter stands alone on a large plot on the shore of Lake Minnetonka. Past the stone walls and steel gate, the drive follows the easy rise of the landscape and ends in a large oval shaped turn-around. Built in 1854, the neoclassical façade cuts an impressive shape against the horizon. It is perfectly symmetrical with grand columns and intricate wrought iron balconies. The off-white stone might have given it a look of cold austerity, but the light and warmth spilling from the windows balance it out.

When the team arrives they hardly recognize the place. Color has been splashed on the walls and the heavy curtains have been thrown open. Enormous arm chairs and overstuffed couches have replaced the beautiful, but uncomfortable, antique furniture. The wide hallway is lined with coolers brimming with soda and beer. Every surface in the kitchen is loaded with snacks and hors d'oeuvres. In addition to the familiar faces, old neighbors, new neighbors and the Excelsior Fire Department are mingling throughout the first floor while a three piece band sets up in the corner of the living room. Most of the furniture has been pushed toward the outsides of the room to create a makeshift dance floor.

Kasey comes bounding down the stairs and launches herself into Eliot's arms. She seems to have finally warmed up to him. He kindly places her back on her feet and moves up the stairs while she shows off her newly cast-free arm to the rest of the group. Nate slips away to pour himself a drink as Parker and Hardison teach the girl an elaborate handshake. Sophie smirks at Eliot's departure then jumps into a conversation with Sarah, complimenting her on the house's transformation.

* * *

"Nice office," Eliot comments, taking in the mahogany wood paneling and wingback chairs.

"I liked my old office," Jordan says glumly. "Is it just me or does this desk make me look like a twelve year old?" She's right. The desk is huge and Jordan, while fully grown, is a petite woman.

"You'll grow into it," he replies, moving further into the room.

"I hope so…" she muses, starting to organize the countless papers in front of her. "Because a booster seat would really mess up the tone of the room." Eliot laughs, noting that her smile is less forced and the weight that's been plaguing her since they met seems to have lifted. "I feel like I should take up cigar smoking and brandy swirling."

"Maybe you should take a break," he suggests. "You know, there's a party going on downstairs?"

"Yeah, I should get down there," she admits, pushing away from the massive desk. "I've only got-" she glances at her watch, "ooh, five hours to find somebody to kiss at midnight."

"I don't think you'll have any trouble." She grins and strides toward the door, but Eliot steps into her path. "Wait, I have something for you."

"What is it?"

"Call it a belated Christmas present," he says, reaching into his jacket, producing a four by eight manila envelope. Jordan gives him a suspicious look, but is too curious not to take it. She flips the tab open tentatively and peers inside. Not believing her eyes, she sinks into the nearest chair.

"But,…how?" is all she can manage. With incredible care, she takes the bundle of photos out and starts to sift through them. She stops on one of a woman in her thirties and a little girl around six smiling from the lakeshore.

"There was some water damage, but we restored what we could."

"It's everything." Jordan blinks back tears as she stares at the images she thought we lost in the fire. "I can't thank you enough."

"Meet me at midnight. We'll call it even."

* * *

"It's eight o'clock, whose new year is it now?" Hardison asks. Parker tries to muster a glare but it doesn't hold.

"It's not _that _crazy," she reasons. "Birthdays are specific to when you're born. Why can't new year's be specific to where you're born?"

"It's not crazy," he agrees. "Let's see what we've got here…" Hardison pulls out his smart phone and taps the screen a few times. "Bingo. Happy New Year, Cape Verde!"

"Cape Verde?"

"I love Cape Verde!" Sophie bursts in. "I hid out there for three weeks after Nate almost caught me in Marseilles." She throws an arm across Parker's shoulders and clinks glasses with both of them. "Happy New Year, Cape Verde!" A few people standing close by repeat the sentiment in slight confusion and Sophie resumes her circuit of the room.

"So, what time zone do you belong to?" Hardison asks without thinking. He assumed it was a harmless question, but feeling Parker's posture shift, he realizes his mistake. Her head drops down and she pulls her arms around her body.

"I don't know," she says quietly with a shrug. Parker glances around, suddenly feeling very exposed. Hardison knows that look: she wants to run. She wants to make a dash for the door, but she's fighting it. He touches her shoulder and nods toward a hallway beyond the kitchen. She takes his hand and allows him to guide them through the sea of people.

As a part of the reconnaissance for this job, Hardison found the blueprints for this house to figure out where to plant the bugs and cameras. Now, he recalls the layout, leading them past the bathroom and the short line forming outside of it. Past the enormous pantry and the stairs to the wine cellar. Past the rooms that used to be designated to the live-in staff. Down four steps, where the hard wood floors are replaced by stone tiles, to a pair of glass double doors.

A conservatory. The last time Hardison saw a room like this he was playing Clue. Moonlight pours in from the slanted glass ceiling, and with the doors closed behind them the party seems a world away. Hydrangeas and geraniums are easy to identify, and the lemon tree in the corner can't be missed, but the rest of the room is an expanse of unknown flowers. Parker moves around the room, not in curiosity or admiration, but out of the need for action.

"There were so many things," she says suddenly. "I didn't know…" Hardison isn't sure what she's talking about, but decides that it's better to let her ramble. She'll make sense eventually. "I should have paid more attention. All those details, the names and places and dates…I didn't know it was important."

Now standing in front of a glass wall, Parker wipes away the fog with her palm. In the daylight, this would have revealed a dazzling view of the lake but in the dark all she can see is her own reflection. "We moved around a lot. We would go wherever my dad could find job. It would be good for a while, but it never lasted and then we'd move again." Hardison holds his breath, not wanting to break her concentration.

"It was in Springfield, Illinois that my brother died, and we were somewhere in Ohio when I ran away…" She shakes off the images that come with this statement and pushes onward. "Every time I got caught, the social worker would ask me questions. _Where are you from? Where are your parents? What are their names? _I would always say that I couldn't remember. So, they would just throw me into a foster home." The glass has already steamed over again by the time Parker turns back to her fiancé.

"I kept saying that I couldn't remember, but after a while…I really couldn't. I wanted to forget…and I did."

"You were just a kid. You did what you had to."

"I didn't know it was important," she says again. Hardison closes the space between them and wraps his arms around her.

"Just because you can't remember your past," he says into her hair, "It doesn't mean you don't have a future." He releases her and holds up her left hand as a reminder. She finally smiles and her body relaxes. "There she is. The future Mrs. Alec Hardison."

"I'm not taking your last name, you know."

"What?" She grins at his dismay and grabs his hand, leading him back to the party. "Come on, it's a good name. Hardison. Strong, reliable, can't ask for a better name…" he trails off, knowing that this is a losing battle.

* * *

"Almost midnight…Thinking about your resolutions?" Sophie asks. Nate closes the watch and slips it back into his pocket. He continues to gaze out the window of Jordan's office, wondering how long she was here before speaking.

"I've got a little time yet. I'm sure I'll think of something."

"I've got some ideas, if you're stuck," she says, nodding to the drink in his hand.

"Go enjoy the party. I have it under control."

"What? Your resolutions or the drinking?"

"Both," Nate replies lightly.

"I'll leave it for now…but I'm not going back to the party without you." He tries to protest but she is already dragging him toward the door. "Come on. Eliot is trying to teach Hardison and Parker how to two-step. You don't want to miss this."

Sure enough, when they make it back to the main room, the band is playing an old country song and Parker and Kasey are giggling uncontrollably while Eliot attempts to give the hacker a dance lesson.

"If you step on my foot one more time-"

"Hold on, am I the boy or the girl?"

"Damn it, Hardison!"

At some point Eliot is convinced to jump in with the band and belts out a classic Hank Williams Sr. song, dedicating it to his newly engaged friends.

"Well sugar, I took one look at you and it almost drove me mad," he sings, his voice twanging more with each verse. "Then I even went and lost what little sense I had." His perfect tone dissolves into laughter as Hardison stubbles with the simple two-step. "Now, I can't tell the day from night. I'm crazy as a loon. You got me chasing rabbits, pulling out my hair and howling at the moon." The rest of the band erupts into howls with the close of the verse, eliciting cheers from the crowded room.

"Before I sing this last verse," Eliot says, while the drummer continues the steady beat. "I want everyone to raise a glass the Parker and Hardison. He asked her to marry him last week -and she said yes!"

"Don't act so surprised!" Hardison protests over the crowd's applause.

"Well, I never thought in this ole world a fool could fall so hard. But, honey baby, when I fell the whole world must have jarred. I think I'd quit my doggish ways if you'd take me for your groom. You got me chasing rabbits, picking out rings and howling at the moon." This time the whole room starts to howl.

The band takes another break around 11:30, turning the music over to a mix of old standards. Sophie is explaining to Parker why people kiss at the stroke of midnight. Hardison is having a slightly hushed conversation with Nate, discussing the possibility of taking Parker on a road trip to Springfield the next time they have a few days off. And, Eliot is in a dark corner with Jordan.

"What's so funny?" he asks, a little confused. The champagne seems to have gone to her head.

"I was just thinking about your business cards," she giggles. "Not that you're in the type of business that has business cards…but man, they would have to be huge."

"And, why is that?"

"All those things…._This is what we do_," she imitates his deep voice, but can't keep a straight face for more than a moment. "You fix windows, you change locks, you…trap millionaires in revolving doors," she says, laughing again. "You save Christmas."

"That was a first."

"Better update your résumé. I think that's going to be a big selling point for you guys."

"Well, if we ever need some PR, I know who to call," Eliot replies, flashing the kind of smile he saves for when the job is done.

"I'll be here. Just digging to China, as always," Jordan mumbles with a grin.

"China?" Of all the women Eliot has crossed paths with, she is the hardest to keep up with. Especially after a few glasses of champagne.

"That's what _I _do," she explains. "I'm always digging to China. It's the never-ending job. No matter how many women I help, I'll never save all of them. I'll never get to China." A wry smile moves to her lips as she takes another sip of champagne. "Neither will you."

"Come on, no digging tonight," Eliot says, taking her glass and setting it aside. He offers his hand like a true gentleman and pulls her to a clear space on the floor. Ella Fitzgerald is crooning "Isn't It Romantic" as he twirls her once then brings her close. Two other couples follow suit after a few beats and before long Parker is dragging Hardison to the center of the room too. Even Nate and Sophie have joined in by the time the song is over. When it fades into a familiar big band song from over half a century ago the swaying couples start to bounce and jive to the beat.

"Ten…Nine…Eight…Seven…Six"

The entire house has joined in the countdown. They have become a unified mass staring at the ornate pendulum clock in anticipation. Time seems to slow down as the year comes to a close.

"Five…Four…Three…Two…ONE…Happy New Year!"

Noise makers live up to their name and pops of confetti erupt into the air. The new year is welcomed with many kisses of varying levels of intensity and an electric guitar rendition of "Auld Lang Syne." Parker jumps into Hardison's arms and for once he is totally prepared, able to fully enjoy the first kiss of 2011 to his future wife. Eliot takes his time with Jordan knowing that this is likely their last kiss.

That leaves Nate and Sophie. Sure, she could have positioned herself next to one those single firefighters but, what fun would that be? He awkwardly glances around, wondering if she plans on kissing someone else and who might witness them if she doesn't. Fully amused, Sophie plants one on Nate, making sure to smear as much of her crimson lipstick on him as possible and hoping that he doesn't pass a mirror anytime soon.

Eliot accepts the brotherly hug from Hardison, but draws the line when the hacker tries to kiss him. He playfully shoves his friend out of the way to give Parker a kiss on the cheek. When he moves down the line to Sophie, the blonde steps back a bit to observe the scene. Not just her circle, but the whole room, the whole house. All of these people, some strangers, some friends. All smiling and laughing and dancing. Tears are welling in her eyes before she can understand why.

Up until now Parker hasn't paid much attention to time, but tonight everyone is here celebrating its passage. It seems so foreign to her that there is one midnight out of the whole year that is special and marks the end and the beginning in the same moment. Looking around this big house and the happy people filling it, she decides that this is the best beginning she has ever seen.

_We did this, _she marvels. _We put this roof over their heads and the smiles on their faces. _She glances down at the ring on her finger, finally getting used to its weight. _This is my life. It isn't a job or a way to pass the time. This is my life now._ _I'm not part of the scenery or holding someone's place. It's mine. And, I didn't even have to steal it. _That's why there are tears in her eyes. It's that overwhelming sense of warmth and contentedness.

A hand at the small of her back pulls her out of her thoughts and she throws an arm across Hardison's shoulders. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to. He just joins her in soaking up the moment.

"I think it's going to be a really good year," she announces after awhile.

"I don't know. Last year is pretty tough to beat…" he muses. He went from almost losing her to proposing in less than twelve months. There were those first shaky weeks when he thought she might bolt at any sudden movement, but now here they are. Engaged and inseparable. Ready and willing.

"It was the best year I've ever had," Parker says with a painful honesty.

"Me too," he says, pulling her a fraction close. "So, let's top it."

* * *

After the chaos of midnight subsides the party starts to thin out. The band packs up their equipment and one by one people start saying their goodbyes. Most of them are short and inconsequential considering half of the guests live within walking distance. For the Leverage Team it takes much longer. Their goodbyes are heavy with inexpressible gratitude and the knowledge that they are not likely to meet again. Kasey defies her bedtime to give each them a hug, but is yawning before they even make it to the door.

Back at Eliot's cabin, they migrate to their beds almost immediately. With a midday flight tomorrow, there isn't time for much else. Even though their eyes are heavy, and the vacation they were promised was no vacation at all, their wandering thoughts keep them up long after the lights have been turned out.

Sophie wonders how long it's been since she told a man her real name, since she even said it out loud. _Would it feel foreign to her lips? Would she need to practice saying it, like with a new alias, before it could sound natural?_ She hopes it wasn't a mistake to finally tell Nate. It wasn't because of their flirtations or the confusing gray areas in their relationship. She told him because they are equals. She's never had one of those before, at least not as an ally.

In the weeks to come Nate will be thinking about Sophie. His mind will be consumed by their midnight kiss and her reasons for revealing her name. But, not tonight. Right now, he's thinking about Christmas. This is the first year that he's acknowledged the holiday, (unless you count getting extra drunk, which most people don't) since his son died. It doesn't matter how many years he'd ignored it, one chorus of "Rudolf, The Red-Nosed Reindeer" and it all came rushing back. Now, staring at the ceiling, he lets the memories wash over him. There is a familiar knotting in his chest but for the first time it doesn't suffocate him. As always, tears fill his eyes, but this time the memories bring a smile with them too.

Eliot isn't thinking about Jordan. He's thinking about something she said. _Digging to China, _he reflects, _She doesn't know how right she is. _She was referring to the work that they do, but for Eliot it's different. It's not about the ever growing pool of people that have been wronged or the scumbags who think they are above the law. For him it's about atonement. Every person he helps is a small piece of redemption. He knows that his good deeds can't erase the dark ones of his past but it is the force that drives him. He'll always be earning his forgiveness, always digging.

Parker has never given much thought to science fiction or alternate realities. Even though Hardison had explained it to her many times, she's always shrugged it off as impossible. Until now. She's thinking about Kasey, how she was so bright and happy tonight. Only a week ago she was scared and angry, pulling away and hardening herself. She was turning to into Parker, but then the team swept in and saved the day. Now, Kasey has a new home and not a care in the world.

Parker can't help but wonder what would have happened if someone had done the same for Rebecca Lewis. _Is there some other universe where I still have a brother? And a mother and father? Would I be happier? Would I still have turned out so odd? _She burrows deeper into the pillows, telling herself to let it go. _Rebecca Lewis doesn't exist anymore. It's too late to save her now. _

Hardison can tell she's still awake. It's too dark for him to see the crease in her brow, but he can feel the tension in her body. He won't ask her what's wrong. He knows that she likes to work things out in her own time. When she wants to talk about it she will. She always comes to him eventually.

In the meantime, he has other things on his mind. _She doesn't even know where she was born. _It's been bothering him all night. _I can fix that._ It would be so easy for him. A few minutes on his computer and they would know. Birth date, place, time. He could find the name and address of the doctor who delivered her if he really wanted to. _But, is that what she wants? _She was upset by all the things she'd forgotten but Parker has to know that he could find out for her. If she wanted him to do a background check, she would have asked. _It was the reassurance of her future that turned her mood around. Maybe she wants to leave the past behind._ He had talked to Nate about taking a trip to her brother's gravesite, but now he isn't sure it's such a good plan. _Some wounds shouldn't be reopened. Would it help her move forward or just cause her unnecessary pain? _He goes back and forth for quite some time, unsure whether to even suggest the idea to Parker.

At some point, another thought occurs to him. If he did look for information about her birth, her parents would certainly come up. No way to stop his computer from linking that data to his search. _What if they are still alive? What if they are still wondering what happened to their little girl? Would Parker want to know any of this?_

Hardison will be the last to finally drift to sleep.


End file.
